Balancing the Scales
by jmkw
Summary: An explosion tears through the night sky and life can never by the same againcaution for language
1. Disclaimer & The Explosion

Disclaimer: They are not mine....at least not most of them.  
  
I just can't fight the urge to throw them all into the preverbal blender and see what comes out.  
  
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Quick Note: I got the idea for this story when we were doing 'Causa Mortis' and it wouldn't go away.  
  
The story started out to be something totally different (No, don't worry nobody dies). I started and stopped on it a dozen times and threw out more than I kept. I decided to just sit on it since I couldn't get a handle on it.  
  
A few weeks ago I was chatting with Madam Beth and she asked me whatever happened with it. I told her I had a usable first chapter, maybe a second, and the LAST chapter. The task of getting from point A to Point B was proving to be the challenge. She offered to help...I sent them to her. She said great start.....but, this ending is NOT going to work.  
  
She convinced me to change "the ending" to the middle and the story took off....with her prodding.  
  
From that point on it was daily emails and IMs. Sometimes two, three times a day!  
  
I really need to give her co-author rights with this because she's probably put in as much time with the story as I have. Half the story came straight from her saying...wouldn't it be nice if....  
  
When it was all said and done (well not quite) the story ended up.... long...about twice as long as I had anticipated. (I guess that happens when the original ending falls in the middle) I hope you don't get too bored with it.  
  
I just thought you'd all like to know....  
  
Thanks Beth! jmkw  
  
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The explosion lit the predawn sky, shooting a plump of smoke and flames spiraling over the roof tops around it.  
  
"I kind of liked that car." Woody said looking down at the man next to him.  
  
He noticed, in the glow of the flames, his angler face lightened to the color of newly minted pennies.  
  
"You won't need it anymore Detective Hoyt. We need to be going."  
  
Woody reluctantly turned away from the burning car. His companion watched the flames. Something went wrong. They should have heard the explosion in Cambridge.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The crime scene was a mass of organized chaos when Jordan arrived. Fire trucks and police cruisers competing for space on the narrow street connected to the parking lot.  
  
A car bombing.  
  
The smell of burning rubber and smoldering automobile oil hung in the air. A slight, underlying scent of burning flesh reminded her of why she was there. She began to pick her way over the discarded fire fighting equipment looking for an officer in charge.  
  
"What are you doing here Jordan?"  
  
Garret. In the pale early morning light she could see he was not pleased to see her. She brushed it off. He had been acting like he needed to get laid for awhile now.  
  
"I was paged."  
  
"I thought Peter was on call."  
  
He ushered her to the rear of a near by fire truck.  
  
"We traded....so what?"  
  
Jordan wasn't in the mood to put up with his shit.  
  
"Fine" Jordan noticed his cheeks puff out with the force of his sigh. "So far it looks like we have only one body. The arson team is in there right now. Be careful there could still be some hot spots."  
  
She pulled on a pair on gloves as she walked toward the scene. She got her first real good look at the damage. The burned out shell was obviously a sedan, the color and make were not easy to determine because of the damage.  
  
"Do they think it's another mob hit?"  
  
Garret only shrugged his shoulders. Jordan approached the opened driver side door. She looked at the body slumped on the driver' seat. The skull clearly defined in the charred remains. The dehydrated skin stretched around it reminding her of pictures she had seen of Egyptian mummies. The lips were burned away presenting the darkened heat cracked enamel on the teeth.  
  
"Handsome...Is there an ID yet?"  
  
Jordan heard Lois Carver behind her.  
  
"We haven't got anything yet. The tags are missing. We're running the VIN number on the car right now. I was kind of hoping you might be able to tell me something."  
  
Jordan looked back at the body.  
  
"We'll do what we can Lois. What do you got so far?"  
  
"Not much. There were no eye witnesses. But one of the tenants in the building across the parking lot said that he heard a couple of cars pull up a few minutes before the explosion. He heard a car door open and close and then ...boom."  
  
Jordan made a few notes in a hand held tape recorder. She noticed the skull was remarkable well intact, only a slight venting fracture in the back. The fire apparently was not long enough or hot enough to consume all the flesh. But from the upper chest cavity on down the damage was extensive. Apparently the incendiary device was underneath the vehicle.  
  
Lois must have been reading her mind.  
  
"It looks like the bomb was under the engine block. The team seems to think it was probably triggered remotely. Something must have gone wrong. There was enough fire power underneath that thing to leave everything pretty well scattered. We're lucky we've got something to work with."  
  
Jordan looked back at the body. Some luck, she thought. Garret stood strangely silent. She fought the urge to tell him to go home for the amount of input he was offering. With a sigh she began her assessment in earnest.  
  
"The lower extremities are pretty damaged. We're going to need copies of the crime scene pics sent over to the office."  
  
"Mike sent them right before you walked up"  
  
"Good, tell him to hang around. We may need him. The bottom half of the body is almost dust. We may even have to call in the pathologist before we can move the body."  
  
"Sure thing..."  
  
Lois's beeper went off and she excused herself to walk back toward a police cruiser.  
  
Jordan shined her flash light around the coils that were all that was left of the driver's seat. The hips and leg bones were white and partially calcified by the heat. Two very distinctive objects came into view. Her heart landed into her stomach as she looked back down at the fire blackened barrel of a handgun and the telltale shape of a police badge.  
  
"Dr. Macy, Dr. Cavanaugh!...We have an ID on the owner of the vehicle."  
  
Garret stood and walked over to Carver. Jordan pulled an evidence bag out of her kit and placed the shield inside. She tried to formulate of a hundred different reasons for it being on the body.  
  
"Jordan"  
  
She looked over at Garret when he called her name. He motioned her to join them. The look on both their faces verified that what she had in her hand was not a simple twist of fate.  
  
They had a dead cop.  
  
"Lois, here, I found this on the body."  
  
Jordan handed her the evidence bag. Lois took it.  
  
Garret put his hand on Jordan's arm.  
  
"Jordan......."  
  
"Who is the officer in charge here?"  
  
They all turned at the sound of the deep commanding voice. The first thing Jordan noticed was the deceivingly small size of the man walking directly toward them. The second thing was his wingtips.  
  
"I'm Detective Carver."  
  
"I'm Agent Bernard, FBI." He flashed his ID in her face. "May I speak with you alone please?"  
  
"Were you guys just waiting around the corner?" Jordan cut in.  
  
A ringing began in Jordan's ears. She had forgotten that Garret had his hand on her arm until she felt him pulling her away. Jordan began to balk when she realized he was leading her away from the crime scene.  
  
"Garret, we probably only have a few minutes left before the Feds muck it up. Let's get back to work."  
  
A trickle of cold sweat ran down her back.  
  
"Jordan, stop it for a minute. We have to talk."  
  
The look in his eyes said it all. Not now, not this way, she thought to herself.  
  
"No, we don't Garret."  
  
The ringing in her ears was becoming unbearable. She had to get back to the scene.  
  
"Jordan, we've all known something wasn't right for weeks. Jordan I'm sorry. It's ..."  
  
Jordan looked back over to the scene and noticed it was swarming with federal agents. The forensics team was being ushered out of the way. Something was very wrong. Funny, she didn't recognize any of the federal faces. Not one of them. She began to panic when she saw evidence being destroyed.  
  
"Hey..Hey! What the hell do you think your doing!?" She yelled out to them.  
  
Jordan felt Garret's hand tighten around her arm. She shook it off and began to walk toward the car yelling out again.  
  
"Jordan, you're not helping matters."  
  
Before she could reply Agent Bernard stepped in front of them his arms ineffectively blocking their view.  
  
"I understand you both were acquainted with the deceased. You have my condolences."  
  
Jordan looked into his piercing black eyes. What she saw there did not look like condolence.  
  
"As you can see we have everything under control. I will need any evidence, reports, photographs you may have gathered from the case."  
  
Jordan began to tell Agent Bernard what she thought of him and his department's intervention when Garret stopped her.  
  
"We will turn in everything before we leave."  
  
"Very good. I'll walk you both to your vehicle." Bernard held his hand out to for them to proceed out of the taped perimeter.  
  
Jordan couldn't believe it. They were being dismissed. The pressure of Garret's grip on her arm increased. She was not given a chance to turn back to the burnt out car as he lead her across the yellow tape police line.  
  
"Garret, something really wrong here. We can't just stand by..."  
  
"We don't have any choice Jordan."  
  
Jordan thought she needed to stay in control. She began to recite the shopping list she wrote up last night in her head. Eggs....Coffee... She needed a touch of reality in this surreal situation.... Shampoo....Paper towels.... Jordan handed over the tape from the hand held recorder she was using to Agent Bernard....Pasta....Toothpaste.....She could finally feel her heart beat slowing down, but not her temper.  
  
"Jordan?"  
  
Jordan couldn't look at his pale face.  
  
"I'm out of here."  
  
She jumped into her Explorer and put the keys in the ignition. She could hear Garret slapping the side of the vehicle. She pulled away from the maze of police and fire vehicles and didn't look back. She didn't want to think about the body in that burned out shell of a car. There had to be another possibility.  
  
"Hoyt, you better have a damn good explanation for this one." 


	2. So it Began

So it began~

Woody naively thought he could spend his flying under the radar.  He knew there was corruption in the force.  He had heard the rumors from the first day he walked into the precinct.  There was almost a 'don't ask, don't tell' mentality around building.  He didn't know if it stemmed from indifference or fear.  He come to think it's a little of both.  Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut too.

He received the call to go down to Police Plaza right after lunch scheduling a meeting with Malden's new replacement.  It was a call he had been unenthusiastically waiting for.  He answered the summons.

"Detective Hoyt.  Please, please have a seat."

The urbane Captain Worthington motioned for him to take a seat opposite his desk.  He asked if he would like a drink. Woody thought about what happened to Jordan in this very room just weeks prior.  He told himself that Worthington wasn't Malden, but he still didn't except his offer.  

"No thank you, sir."

"You won't mind if I help myself?"

He poured a tumbler of liquor and took a seat.

"Detective Hoyt I have been reviewing you records and I have to admit I'm very impressed.  Very impressed indeed."

"Thank you, sir"

"I'll cut to the chase.  I'm looking for a good man to put on my own personal staff.  And I think I have found the right candidate.  How would you like to leave the grind of the nineteenth?"

Woody's mouth was as suddenly dry as dust.  This was it.

"The assignment includes a promotion, an office with a view.  I'm having dinner with some colleagues tonight and I'd like you to join us. "

Intuition told Woody to run. He always followed his gut instincts. When he didn't, he usually found himself in a world of hurt. This time he put that little voice out of his head. Instead he asked time and place.

Once out of the building he made a call and left a message. 

~~~~~

Dinner ended up being an anti drug fundraiser at an uptown hotel.  Woody walked in feeling underdressed and overwhelmed.  It was the first time he had ever been wired. He was sure the microphone was picking up his pounding heartbeat. That gut feeling he had all day was manifesting itself in the cold sweat that coated his palms. 

 Out of the corner of his eye he saw Worthington bearing down on him.  The mayor's office was quick in assigning him to the office.  Rumor had it that the governor himself wanted a swift ending to the whole Malden mess. Worthington was sworn in only ten days after Malden's death.  

"Hoyt, you're punctual.  I like that in my people."

Woody looked down at his watch and noticed he was actually five minutes early.  

"Come, there's some people I'd like you meet."

Worthington paraded him through the milling crowd.  Woody was introduced to many faces he had seen in newspapers and the eleven o'clock news, not only movers and shakers from around the city, but many from the national arena.  He couldn't help but wonder if he had shook the hand of a future president or two.  Out of nowhere Woody was handed a glass of champagne.  Before he could give it back Worthington spoke up. 

"Gentlemen I would like to propose a toast.  Here's to the charity's profitable evening."  

Woody took a sip of the wine and grimaced at the after taste.  Worthington leaned closer to him and spoke without breaking the Election Day smile on his face. 

"Drink up boy, it's Cristal.  Get use to it.  You're running with a different animal now." 

Woody tipped the glass back as the first of the key note speakers was taking the stage. Worthington motioned for him to follow him out of the room.  Before he knew it they were in Worthington's car as his driver was speeding through the darkened uptown streets.   Woody looked around the interior with a critical eye. Worthington smiled.

"Something huh?  My office on wheels."

"Yes, sir something."  

 "Ah, I'm parked back at the hotel...."  

"Don't worry about that.  Someone is picking up our vehicle as we speak.  I wanted to discuss some business with you before you start your new duties in the morning."

Woody looked out the window trying to get his bearings. He hoped that the wire he was wearing had long range.   

"You have made quite an impression with many influential people in your short time in Boston, Hoyt.  I'm delighted you decided to join my staff."

"I'm honored to be chosen, sir."

"I'm glad to hear that.  Serving the public can be a thankless task at times.  It seems the challenges far out excide the rewards.  Don't you think Hoyt?"

Woody looks around the interior of the town car.

"I could get use to this."

"Don't get to comfortable, my boy.  I'm sure we can come up with other arrangements that could leave you just as comfortable."  

Woody was suddenly all ears.  Worthington was working fast than they had anticipated.  He hopped Tillman was picking this all up.  Unconsciously, he reached up to touch the tiny cord that connected the listening device that was hidden inside the lining of his jacket.  He snapped his hand away and began to tap his fingers on the door frame. 

"Comfortable?  How comfortable sir? Between you and me a cop's salary just doesn't cut it in today's economy."  

"Everything I heard about you is true; ambitious and eager.  Let's see how things work out first."

Woody decided to push Worthington for more.

"I'm told I grow on people.  Tell me, sir.  Does this new position include opportunities for a little side income?"

Worthington let out a laugh. "I can see why you were chosen.  You've balls, I'll give you that."

"I thought you picked me."

"I had a hand in it, but our benefactor was the one who ultimately pointed you out."

"Who's that?"

"It's late.  You have an early day tomorrow.  Here we are."

Woody looked out his window and noticed that they were parked in front of his apartment building. 

"Sleep well Hoyt, and welcome aboard."

Woody stepped out on the curb.  "Thank you, sir."

He barely had the door shut when the car pulled away.  

"I hope the hell you got all that." He said to his lapel. "Did any of you learn how to pick locks at Quantico?  My keys are back at the valet parking...."

Woody looked up to see his car pulling around the corner.  

"Never mind, they have curb side delivery."

The car pulled up on the street in front of him. He had a very uncomfortable feeling when the two guys inside stepped out.  

 "Thanks.  You really didn't have to I could have just picked it up later."

Woody held out his hand for his keys, only they moved faster then he thought two big guys could.  Before he known it, he was in the alley on the side of the building.  His arm was being dragged behind his back to the point where he could swear he could touch the top of his head.  

Woody worried that they would find the wire. 

That worry flew right out of his mind when a meaty fist pounded into his gut.  Stars flashed on the back of his eyelids and his knees buckled.  A second fist caught him under the chin. Before the lights went out one of his attacks told him that this was just a small taste of what he could expect if he should decide not to play by the rules. 

A sanitation truck sat down the street the occupants were listening to every thing.   

"Shit Tillman, they just killed him!"

"With that thick head? Naw, I can still hear him moanin'." Tillman keyed his radio. "Grab your Mogen David... I think it's time to wag the dog."

"_Sure thing boss_."   

"Step on it before they find the wire...or the dumb ass will be dead."


	3. Shiny Shoes and Bad Coffee

The first thing Woody noticed was the gravel digging into his cheek instead of the softness of his pillow. He kept his eyes close trying to get his bearings. The smell of cold concrete and something only too definable forced him to crack open his eyes. He could just make out the curb in the front of his building. He knew he would regret it but he sat up, biting back the momentary nausea.  
  
It took him a few seconds to finds his keys. While he was searching he felt the tiny cable running up the inside of his shirt. He let out a sigh of relief and stood. With a few choice words for his listening audience he made his way inside. Why did Tillman and his team leave him laying there? Hopefully there was a good explanation.  
  
All he wanted to do was take the world's longest shower and next he wanted was take the second longest. He settled for ten minute rinse and dash. His night was far from over.  
  
By two AM Hoyt was sitting in the booth at the diner he had been visiting almost daily for the last few weeks, drinking the worst coffee he had ever tasted.  
  
It all started after Malden had first contacted him a life time ago. He that sick gut feeling about Malden's involvement in the Jeffers case and dropped a dime to a friend with the FBI. Before he knew it the Feds were asking him to try and infiltrate Malden's inner circle. His first thought was to say no.  
  
A familiar face walked in the front door and took the bench across from him in the booth. Woody only knew his name was Tillman and he was with the FBI. He never asked more because the guy frankly scared the bejesus out of him. His head was the size of one of the ham's his mother would cook for Christmas dinner and was just about as good looking. Tillman waited until the waitress poured him a cup of coffee. She went behind the corner before Woody spoke.  
  
"What the hell happened to you?"  
  
"Your building was being discreetly watched. There was nothing we could do without breaking your cover. You're tail didn't take off until after you made your own way into the building."  
  
"I don't understand. Why did he have me jumped when all I have been doing is kissing his ass?"  
  
"They are moving quickly. I think this was the fastest way for them to tell if you are on the level and working alone."  
  
"Well, I certainly felt alone." Woody said sarcastically rubbing his sore jaw.  
  
"We're damn lucky they didn't get a chance to search you. It was close."  
  
"I wonder why they didn't."  
  
"They didn't have time." Tillman said with a smile.  
  
"Fate would have it your resident wino needed to find a place to take a piss. They ditched you quickly and took off."  
  
Woody wondered how much of the fate was in the hands of the man sitting across from him.  
  
"I do have some good news. We got everything said in the car. You did a good job."  
  
"Good for you maybe, but my head feels like it's going to split open. What do we do now?"  
  
Tillman blew the stream off the surface of his cup. Hoyt could almost feel his mind working. Without taking a sip Tillman set the cup back down on the table.  
  
"You show up at Police Plaza at eight AM with a shine on your shoes."  
  
Woody rubbed the tops of his shoes off on his pant legs under the table. He had been thinking about this day since the Jeffers case and his first meeting with Captain Malden. It was that day he was put in contact with Tillman and his team.  
  
At his first sit down with the FBI about Malden, Woody found out they had been investigating him and others for months. The Bureau was having trouble finding connections to the inside. He offered to help. They jumped on his eagerness.  
  
Together they came up with a plan to make Woody more appealing; a bid for an early promotion, a disgruntled word here, another there. The Bureau had groomed him in to the perfect cop on the fence.  
  
From the very beginning Tillman plotted everything out in black and white. There were risks. Woody knew that there would be no going back once the operation was in place. He only felt a moment of pause, but he knew he had a responsibility to follow it through.  
  
Unfortunately, Malden was dead. With Woody's involvement in the case, it looked like FBI would have to pull the plug. The task force decided to keep on track when it became very evident that Cahill was setting up yet another of his people in Worthington. Tillman's team just set their sights on a new fish and Woody redirected his efforts.  
  
"It looks like everything's on track at this point but Worthington is still a little unpredictable. We don't know his total agenda yet. It's time to tie up some loose ends. You need to start separating yourself from your old life. You need to show them you are going to loyal only to the organization."  
  
"I packed my desk out yesterday from the nineteenth."  
  
"I'm not talking about your professional ties. I'm talking your personal ties. You need to separate yourself from your any friends or family that may become a liability."  
  
This was the part of the plan Woody hated. From the beginning Tillman told him to start alienating his circle. It was all to show that he was ready for change.  
  
"I have been."  
  
"I'm talking about the Cavanaugh family. Mr. Cavanaugh's record is far from sterling. Your relationship with Dr. Cavanaugh is not purely professional, which can by very dangerous. You're association with them has taken you into some legal grey zones that apparently got you noticed in the first place, which is why we're here. But we can't run the risk of your cover being blown by them."  
  
"I don't think...."  
  
"Don't think Hoyt. It could get you all killed. You need to severe the ties and make it quick."  
  
He reluctantly agreed.  
  
By eight o'clock in the morning Woody walked in to Police Plaza with a polish on his shoes and a smile on his face. He felt like he was going to be sick. 


	4. Where Are You?

Present Day~ 

Jordan barely had the Explorer in park when she jumped out. She pressed the cell phone to her ear. Woody's home number. She had tried every other number she had with no luck.  

She stormed into the building. Woody's voice mail picked up the call. Jordan disconnected.   She had a charred body a few blocks down, a federal task force fumbling around the scene and, a headache the size of Quincy Market growing at the base of her skull.  Jordan pounded the heel of her hand on Woody's door.  The neighbors could bitch at him later.  

"Damn it Hoyt, get your ass out of bed....!" 

There was no answer. She pounded harder.

"We found your car....just answer the door....!"  

There was no answer. She pounded the door with both hands.  A few heads where peeking out of cracked doors.  Jordan heard mumblings from one of Woody's neighbors about calling the police.

She looked at the nose sticking out through the security chain and shouted "He is the frigging police!" The door slammed quickly as if she were a rabid animal ready to strike. 

Her hands were growing numb from pounding. Jordan stopped and caught her breath. She put an ear to the door, for a second, listening for any sound.   She let out a nervous laugh.

"Woody, I don't give a damn if you're getting laid ...open the door...."

Still no response.  She began to pound again this time adding her foot for good measure.

"Dr. Cavanaugh... please, step away from the door."

Jordan turned to see Agent Bernard flanked be two uniformed Boston PD.  His jet black hair slicked back as perfectly as it was at the crime scene.  He voice dark and menacing, reminding her of James Earl Jones.  Jordan had an uneasy feeling about Agent Bernard.  His badge may say FBI and his shoes may say FBI, but there was something that didn't add up. 

"Don't you have a crime scene to finish destroying, Bernie?"

She turned back to the door and yelled "Hoyt let me in... I've got some unwanted company."

"Dr. Cavanaugh he is not in there."

Jordan ignored him and pounded the door again.

"Dr. Cavanaugh you are causing a public nuisance.  These officers can and will remove you by force if necessary."  

"I'm just looking for some answers. Leave me alone."

Jordan grabbed the doorknob and turned it violently.  Why wouldn't he answer the door?  She screamed out his name. 

"Dr. Cavanaugh this is your last warning."

Jordan turned and looked at the small crowd that was gathering.  She brushed a stray hair away from her face and walked up toe to toe with Bernard.  She looked him in the eye and still didn't like what she saw.  Without a word she turned and walked out.   In the distance she heard Bernard reassuring the bystanders that everything was alright. 

He met up with her as she pulled herself into the SUV.

"Dr Cavanaugh, please go back to the Medical Examiner's Office.  Everything is under control."

"Just who the hell are you, Bernard?"

"Just go back to where you belong, Dr. Cavanaugh.  And once again you have my condolences."

Jordan slammed her door and threw the Ford in gear. She hoped when she looked back she would see Bernard in some kind of pain. He only turned foot and climbed into the dark blue sedan parked at the curb. 

 It only took one block when Jordan realized the two uniforms that Bernard brought with him where tailing her. So much for doubling back to the scene. At the first red light she pulled out her cell.  She put it back when she realized she didn't know Lois's number. 

Her tail followed her all the way into the morgue parking lot.  She had a feeling they would be there long after she made her way to the ninth floor. 

Jordan rubbed her temples when she stepped into the empty elevator.  She pressed the floor and the car began moving up.  She caught her reflection in the polished steel and she pressed the emergency stop button. The elevator jerked to a halt and she barely noticed it.

Just the other day Lily told her that the universe seemed to have a winkle in it.  The world had turned upside down in the last months, culminating in this.  Jordan let herself slide to the floor of the car.  She was suddenly tired. So very tired. 

"Oh, Woody...why?"

Why did he do it?  One day they were sharing a drink thankful that they were all alive after the chain of events stemming from finding Jeffers, the next he is sitting in an uptown office burying the same case in mountain's of red tape. The hand writing was on the wall. Hoyt had stepped over to the dark side. 

She willed herself not to cry.  They had no substantial proof that it actually was Hoyt in that car.  Jordan rested her head on her knees.  How could this be happening?  Suddenly a buzzer sounded in the car. 

_"Hello? Is there anyone in there?"_

Jordan let out a deep sigh.  "Yes."

_"This is security.  Does there seem to be a problem with the elevator ma'am?" _

Jordan silently stood and set the car in motion again. When the doors opened and she was standing eye to eye with Nigel.  There were no witty good mornings. Nothing.  His face looked ready to crumble at any moment. Jordan fought to remain in control of her quickly unraveling nerves. 

"Did you get a copy of those pics before the Feds got a hold of the email?"  Jordan said without preamble.

She walked toward her office.  Nigel had to all but run to keep up with her.

"Love, I didn't think you need to worry about that right now."

She stopped so suddenly that he almost ran into her. She looked up into his pale face.  

"You did get a copy."

"Yes, but..."

Jordan started walking again. She stood in front of her office fumbling with her keys.  She finally gave up.  Nigel took the keys out of her hand and opened her door. 

"Thanks"  

"Jordan, you were there.... what happened?"

Jordan opened her mouth and closed it. She stepped into the office and waited for Nigel to follow her in.   

"The car was found about six blocks from his place.  The police apparently think the bomb was not wired properly.  Even so the damage was pretty bad but not as bad as it could have been.  Woody's badge was on the body, but that doesn't mean a lot.....but what really bothered me was the Feds were all over the scene before the preliminaries where even done. "

Jordan stopped talking when she caught a glimpse of Renee Walcott walking toward Garret's office. 

"Get me that copy of the scene photos Nig......."

Jordan pushed Nigel aside and was hot on Walcott's trail.  By the time Jordan reached Garret's closed door she noticed Walcott standing in front of the desk.  She could tell what they were talking about.  She didn't bother to knock and walked in. Garret's head snapped up.

"Jordan, you can't just storm in here."

Jordan only gave him a scalding look and turned to Renee. 

"What happened back there?  Since when do the Feds just commandeer a site like that?  I hope you nailed that jackass to the wall."

"Jordan" Garret growled in warning. 

Renee put up a hand. 

"Jordan, this is a case for the FBI."

"I'm maybe be a little vague a few things, but I thought the Boston PD had jurisdiction in the city of Boston."

"This homicide involves a police officer, Jordan.  Detective Hoyt was under investigation...."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah I thought IA was in house."

"The Mayor's office wanted an outside investigation to Hoyt's murder."

"This office hasn't had a chance to confirm his death...get me that body and we'll see who was really in that car."  

Jordan was being irrational and she knew it.  She wanted; no, needed definitive proof of the identification of the body. If Renee Walcott wanted a pissing contest Jordan was more than in the mood for it.  

 "Jordan, the case has been turned over the federal authorities.  They will process the evidence in there own facilities. I'm sorry." 

"I don't trust those SOB's to tell the difference between criminal evidence and a pile of...."   

Garret stood up. 

"Jordan, that's more than enough." 

He caught Renee's eye as she slipped out of the office. 

"I can't believe you are going to stand there and let this happen, Garret. You saw what was happening back there.  This is dicked up already.  Whoever sent that bomb is going to get away with it!" 

"Jordan, you're too upset.  You're thinking rationally. "

"Oh, don't patronize me Garret, it's very unbecoming. I have to go, I'll check in later."  

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Well, since you're just going to put your head up your ass, I guess I'm on my own."

Garret stopped her before she could get out the door. 

"Leave it alone Jordan."

"Yeah, right."

"Where are you going?"  

Jordan had a thousand answers on her tongue.  She didn't know why but she told him the truth.

"First thing first.  I'm going to head over to talk to Worthington. If anyone knows what the hell's going on here...it's him."

"Hoyt's dead Jordan."

"I'll believe that when I'm handed positive proof.   Until then I'm going to work under the assumption we have a John Doe.  This stinks of the sick games Cahill and Conroy are playing out on the streets.  Worthington is the man with a game card."

Garret's voice got low she had could barely hear him. 

 "Damnit Jordan, stay away. What if it's true? What if he is alive?  You'll only get...."  

He cleared his throat and grabbed the intake log.   

"Jordan, let the feds handle this. You're not going anywhere.  I need you here.  Another gunshot came in last night."

He handed her a file and opened the door. 

"Jordan, I know you were close with Hoyt.  Even after everything that's happened in the last few months.  Promise me, please, just stay out of it."

Jordan looked at the desperation in Garret's face.   He wasn't telling her everything.  Hell, he hadn't been talking to her in weeks.  Jordan would never believe that Garret could be part of any kind of corruption.  In fact, when it became evident that Woody had crossed the line, Garret was as confused as the rest of them.  She needed to think.  She needed time to regroup.

She took the file out of his hand and left the office.  Heads were poked out of doorways and corridors watching Jordan make her way back to her office.  She was sure everyone heard the raised voices coming out of Garret's closed door. 

"Get back to work."  Garret yelled before he slammed his door closed.         


	5. Brick Walls

Present Day~  
  
Lily stood patiently outside Jordan's closed office door. She didn't notice Nigel standing only a few feet away. She was clutching on her ever-present clipboard like a frightened child would a security blanket. He always wondered if she unconsciously used it as a shield from the realities of this place. The morgue was never sunny, but now it had a black cloud that hung in the air and Lily was showing the stain.  
  
Nigel cleared his throat. Lily jumped and dug deep into her psyche to find her game face. After all she was a professional.  
  
"Nigel. How are you doing?"  
  
Nigel could only nod. Lily's face was freshly scrubbed but it was obvious she had been crying. At least she was accepting the fact Woodrow was gone. Nigel worried about Jordan. All morning she has been working like a caged animal. He stood by, waiting; while she performed the gunshot autopsy she was assigned. Her actions were clipped and methodical. She was a spring so tightly wound up that he thought for sure she'd break.  
  
But the spring didn't snap. She held a tight lid on her emotions. Earlier, Nigel showed her the ballistics report from the bullet they had taken out of the victim's chest. It matched the slugs dug out of four other bodies that have laid in the crypt over the last month. The mob had erupted into a major turf war. The players were littering the streets.  
  
Nigel watched her read the report and thought at that point she would break. But she only looked at the body split open on the table and muttered something about one less waste in the city.  
  
"I'm waiting for Jordan." Lily said showing Nigel a sad smile bringing him back to the present. "I tried to talk to her earlier and she told me to come back later. She's not facing the reality Nigel. I'm concerned."  
  
"As are we all. Come on love, I'll back you up."  
  
Nigel opened Jordan's door and waved Lily inside. Jordan was staring at the cellphone in her hand as if it were Hamlet's Yorick. If took her a split second to realize they were in the room. Jordan carefully set her phone down and looked at the blank commuter screen in front of her. "I'm busy right now. Can we do this later?"  
  
"Jordan." Lily said laying a hand on Jordan's shoulder.  
  
Jordan looked up and gave her a forced smile. At that moment Nigel thought if Woodrow hadn't have got himself blown up, he would be tempted to do it himself.  
  
"I know you mean well...Both of you. It's just...."  
  
Jordan stood and walked over to the window. The sky was a delirious cloudless blue. She abruptly turned back to face her friends.  
  
"I need your help. Garret is watching me like a hawk. I need to get out of here. That little prick Worthington is not returning any of my calls. I need to see him."  
  
"Jordan, I don't think that's a very good idea."  
  
"He's got to know what the hell is going on."  
  
Jordan grabbed her bag out of her desk.  
  
"Oh, and Nigel can you check out something for me? The agent that came in and shanghaied the scene is a guy named Bernard. I talked to Lois earlier and she did some asking around. Nobody seems to have ever heard of this guy before."  
  
"Do you think he's involved?"  
  
"Up to his beady little eyeballs."  
  
"Jordan, don't you think you should let..."  
  
"You sound like Garret. No. They want us to believe Woody's dead and I want to know why."  
  
"Jordan" Lily cut in "His personal affects were there. You saw them yourself."  
  
Jordan ignored Lily.  
  
"Oh yeah, Nige, I need those scene shots. Can you put them on my desk? I'll look at them when I get back."  
  
"Jordan, Jordan!"  
  
Jordan walked passed Lily and out the door. She knew she was being inconsiderate. She made a mental note to apologize later.  
  
Later became sooner when Jordan returned to the office a couple hours later....  
  
Jordan had forced her way into Worthington's office, ironically breaking up a meeting of the task force the mayor's office recently formed in response to the mob war.  
  
She was quickly ushered out by Worthington himself and unwittingly became a photo op for him with the mass of press that had descended on the steps of police headquarters. He reassured Jordan and the press that everything was being done to see that justice, in the bombing death of a police officer, would be carried out. Before Jordan could respond she was physically escorted off the premises.  
  
She thought she'd have better luck at the FBI field office when she was directed to the office of an agent named Tillman. She realized she wasn't up to her A game when he affectively brushed off her questions about the bombing, Agent Bernard, and status of the investigation.  
  
Jordan walked into Lily's office feeling quite dejected. She wasn't prepared for the face she would see.  
  
"Hi, Dad."  
  
Max stood awkwardly from the chair in front of Lily's desk and faced his daughter. Their relationship had been strained for weeks. Their arguments about Woody and Cahill left their mark.  
  
Jordan didn't quite know if she was going to hear some kind of commiseration or 'I told you so'. She got neither Max opened up his arms and she walked into them like she had all of her life. Lily quietly let herself out.  
  
"Oh, baby girl."  
  
Standing in her father's arms drove to home everything that has happened in the last twenty four hours. She felt death everyday.  
  
When Jordan's mother died she knew. She knew before she even saw the body that her spirit was gone. That morning she watched her mother wave good bye as she left for school, just like she saw Woody drive away from Pogue the night before. Now when she thought of the body in that automobile she only felt the professional indifference of a medical examiner.  
  
For a second she let herself think...maybe it was true, maybe he was dead. But for only a second...any longer than that would be admitting he was gone and she wasn't ready for that. It was easier to think he was going to walk through the door any second.  
  
"Why?"  
  
It was a question she voiced a hundred times over in the last twelve hours. It was the same question she's asked herself over the last few months.  
  
"Sweetheart, There's never an easy answer for this."  
  
Jordan stepped out of her father's arms and up her hands in her back pockets so she wouldn't be tempted to touch her face to check if she were crying or not.  
  
Jordan found her voice and told her father about being called to the crime scene and finding the physical evidence that she didn't trust. She told him about the doors that where slamming in her face all over town.  
  
"What I don't understand is way everything is being brushed under the rug. You wouldn't believe what happened this morning, Dad."  
  
"I can imagine." he said darkly.  
  
Jordan told him about the mysterious FBI team that swarmed the scene before the fire was barely out. How when she finally got a hold of Lois later in the day, she told her that the scene was washed clean before rush hour was over. Jordan told him she had verified that fact herself when she drove past the scene only to see a stray news truck parked nearby while the reporter stood in the middle of the discoloration on the tarmac.  
  
The more she talked the angrier she became.  
  
"I agree with you Jordan. This stinks to high heaven. But Hoyt made his own bed."  
  
Jordan only shook her head. She has had this argument a number of times before.  
  
"Don't tune me out Jordan. The stakes have just gone up. Let it go now. Now before you get hurt anymore."  
  
"What if I can't? Somebody has gone through a lot of trouble to make me believe...."  
  
"Damn it Jordan, he's dead. He messed around with the wrong crowd and got himself killed....you need to face it. It's over."  
  
For weeks Jordan has felt like she's been on the outside looking in on her life. At that moment she realized she was on the outside. She felt utterly alone. She's been hitting her head against a wall.  
  
Jordan lifted her hands in front of her and studied the slight bruising on the palms from pounding on an empty apartment door. Maybe Bernard was right. He wasn't there because he was on his way the FBI forensics lab.  
  
For the first time in a long time the tears came.  
  
"Come on honey, let me take you home."  
  
=============================================================== .... Thanks for putting up with my jumping around with these first few chapters. I promise I'll try and get everything on the same timeline in the next few. I few more jumps coming up later...but I'll try to make them clearer.....I hope you like the story so far...Jo 


	6. Heartache

Tapping his pen on his desk, Woody realized in his entire life he never found it difficult to adapt to new surroundings, new situations, only this time was different. Worthington had put him in a position to be his eyes and ears overseeing the traffic between the DA's office and homicide. His first task was to make sure the Malden case was being helped along to the completion Worthington and his boss wanted.  
  
The hour was getting late and he had a stop to make before he could go home and wash away the filth of the day in a long hot shower. Tillman had made him promise that he would end his relationship with Jordan and her father. He had been avoiding them. Taking the coward's way out. Tillman reiterated that morning, that the ball was in play and he needed to make sure his bases were covered.  
  
God, he hated his job.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Jordan walked into Pogue after a long day. The first in a string of murdered members of Blackie Conroy's organization had showed up at the morgue that day. Max handed her a beer.  
  
"Twenty two to the back of the head...He never saw it coming."  
  
"There has been a lot of rumbling on the street. I think we have a full blown range war building."  
  
"Unfortunately, they're not fighting over cattle or sheep." Jordan looked around the sparsely populated bar. "Dad, have you seen Woody around lately? He's usually like the preverbal bad penny. I haven't heard from him in awhile. I'm beginning to think we finally ran him out of town."  
  
Max had rumors about Woody's transfer but until he had the facts, he chose to keep information to himself. He changed the subject.  
  
"Sweetheart, are you still getting those hang up calls?"  
  
Jordan took a drink of her beer wishing she had never told her father about the nuisance calls she had been getting. They started a few weeks ago. Normally in the evening, sometimes late at night. The phone would ring once and then stop. Her caller ID just said it was a private number.  
  
"Yeah, but it's not a big deal."  
  
"I really wish you would report it."  
  
"And have to go through the crap of changing my number? No thanks."  
  
"I still didn't like it."  
  
"Dad...."  
  
The bell over the door rang. Jordan looked up to see Woody standing in the door.  
  
"Hey stranger!" She yelled over with a smile.  
  
Woody stood there for a moment and just looked at her. At times he felt his life began and ended with her face...with that smile. He knew by the time he left, she wouldn't smile like that at him ever again.  
  
"Christ, who died?" she laughed "Lighten up...Come on, I'm buying." Jordan patted the stool next to her.  
  
Woody sat down and accepted the drink Max sat down in front of him. He had half the beer gone before Jordan spoke.  
  
"I was just asking Dad if he knew where you've been hiding."  
  
Woody couldn't help but notice the look in Max's eyes.  
  
"Around....I took a new job."  
  
"Really? When were you going to tell me?"  
  
"It's downtown at the Plaza..."  
  
Max muttered but didn't move.  
  
"Damn, I guess you're buying from now on...is that why you're MIA? Are you too good for us now?" she said teasingly.  
  
Woody didn't return her smile. Jordan noticed her father wasn't laughing either. She felt like she was missing something.  
  
Jordan noticed a vein in her father's head throbbing as he spoke "So what exactly do you do in that office."  
  
Woody finished the beer. "I'm in the Captain's...personal staff."  
  
Jordan didn't hear the string of curses that came out of Max's mouth, she was too busy waiting for Rod Sterling to walk through the door and say that they had just entered the Twilight Zone. Worthington was Malden's next in command. The word out said that not only was he as crooked as Malden, but he was actually the puppet master to Malden's puppet. Being on Worthington's personal staff could only mean one thing.  
  
Woody was on the take.  
  
She looked over at Woody as he watched her father's tirade. He had the gull to smile. That self satisfied smirk that spoke volumes.  
  
"Woody? My God....why!?"  
  
Woody sat silent still not looking over at her. He couldn't, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep up the act.  
  
"I'm tired of playing with cards I was dealt, Jordan."  
  
"What the hell is that suppose to mean?" Max growled.  
  
Woody stood and threw a couple bills on the table.  
  
"Maybe if you played......your cards right Max, Jordan's mother would still be alive today."  
  
His words cut them all to the quick. Max pointed his finger toward the door and asked Woody to leave. Jordan sat frozen until she heard the door chime with his exit.  
  
Woody ran a hand over his mouth trying to ignore the fact it was shaking badly. He made his way to the curb and swallowed hard wondering if the weight of the gun in his holster could be nothing compared to the weight that had just dropped from his chest to his gut.  
  
God, he really hated his job.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Jordan made her way into her darkened apartment. Her first impulse was to follow Woody out the door of the pub and to slap him upside the head, but Max had stopped her before she could even get off the stool.  
  
Jordan rubbed her temples and reached for a bottle of merlot. She pulled the cork needing a drink, or two, or ten.  
  
She washed down a couple of aspirin with the first glass. She justified her actions by saying she was preventing heart disease.  
  
For an instant she wondered if the combination would work on heartbreak too.  
  
Carrying the bottle, she walked over to her bed. She sat the bottle on the floor and curled up on top of the covers. She swirled the dark red wine around in the globe and watched as the liquid as it formed distinctive streaks down the sides. Someone once told her that you could tell how much alcohol was in wine by the number of legs the glass of wine had. She didn't know if it was true or not but the idea struck her as funny.  
  
She thought about the first time Woody had had dinner at her apartment. He said the only thing he knew about wine was that you had red with pasta and white with chicken and you never mixed either with an adolescent dare.  
  
His naivety was painful at times.  
  
She bit back the tears. How could she be so wrong about him? How could she....  
  
How could someone so seemingly wholesome turn so quickly?  
  
Jordan reached for the bottle and refilled her glass. The bad thing about wine, she thought, was that once the bottle was open it had to be finished. She held up the bottle in her hand and regretted it wasn't a magnum.  
  
The phone rang. She was glad when it only rang once. 


	7. The Witness

Jordan stood outside the Crypt and watched Renee Walcott going into Garret's office yet again. Just that morning, Garret came screaming out of his office about yet another 'mix-up' in paperwork, which could be traced directly back to the police chief's office.  
  
Jordan didn't have to ask to know who in the chief's office was behind the missing evidence. She guessed Walcott's frequent visits were her way of bypassing the chief's new liaison officer, Woody.  
  
For weeks, Jordan hadn't been able to think of anything else other than him. She would lay awake nights trying to figure out what happened. The only thing that made sense to her is that Cahill had something on him. He was being blackmailed in some way.  
  
She had been trying to contact him, ever since that night at the pub. She told herself it was to warn him that Walcott had contacted Internal Affairs about him, but she knew she really wanted answers. To know she wasn't a fool for calling him a friend. He wouldn't answer her messages or take her calls.  
  
A week ago Jordan gave up and showed up at his office. The meeting was awkward at best. She tried to talk to him but only met an egotistical resistance. He gave her a quick excuse and left her standing in the corridor out side his office open-mouthed.  
  
Before she left the building that day she stopped by Eddie Winslow's office. She asked for help his help in trying to get through to Woody. Eddie told her to forget it, that Hoyt was just greedy like the rest of them...  
  
"They're at it again?"  
  
She jumped at Nigel's voice.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Dr. M. and the prosecutor from hell."  
  
Jordan refocused on Garret and Walcott who were animatedly talking to each other across the desk.  
  
"I think she's moved her office in there." Jordan said.  
  
"Hummm...They've been awfully chummy lately ..."  
  
"Wow, there's a newsflash..." Jordan said sarcastically. "By the looks of it I'd say they're not planning a weekend at the Cape."  
  
"Here's that ballistics on number six...it's a match to numbers one and two."  
  
Jordan took the report out of his hands. The sixth of Conroy's guys had found that morning shot twice in the chest at point blank range.  
  
"If Conroy and Cahill keep this up any longer and they won't have to worry about an organization to run...."  
  
"It would make my job easier.... Love, do me a favor and take that to Walcott will you? I'm still trying to get the picture of her and Macy alone at a B and B out of my head."  
  
"I was picturing a cheap motel personally."  
  
Jordan delivered the report she made her way back to her office. She stopped dead in the hallway. Her door was open and Woody was standing in front of her desk.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
Woody turned to face her. The first thing she noticed was the missing smile. In fact his face looked gaunt and pale, like he hadn't smiled...or for that matter ate in weeks. Jordan thought about her own loose waistband.  
  
"Shut the door. I need to talk to you."  
  
"Now you want to talk. Just last..."  
  
"Jordan, I need you to back off." Woody said cutting her off.  
  
She realized he was talking about the questions she has been asking around. She quietly shut the door.  
  
"Believe it or not, I just want to help you Woody. It's not to late to get yourself out of this trouble your in."  
  
"Jordan please, just.... call off Winslow and leave me alone."  
  
Jordan had to smile. At least Eddie had done some checking, even if he didn't want to.  
  
"Woody, whatever they're holding over your head can't be that bad. You can trust me, I want to help."  
  
Woody let his guard down and genuinely smiled. For a second he thought it would so easy to confide in her.  
  
"Jordan...if only..." He shook his head. "...damn it Jordan, just stay out of my business.....please."  
  
"Why Woody? Tell me what's going on and I'll try."  
  
Woody sighed. At least she was being honest in saying she could only try to stay out of it.  
  
"That's the point Jordan....." He opened the door. The haughtiness came back to his voice. "Just tell your friend to keep to himself; I wouldn't want to see him getting hurt."  
  
As he walked away he could feel Jordan's eyes on his back, along with the rest of the office staff.  
  
"That went well" he muttered to himself. He could only hope she would listen. Winslow was beginning to make some noticeable waves.  
  
His phone rang. It was Worthington he wanted to see him in his office immediately.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I need you to do something for me."  
  
Woody shifted on his feet in front of the chief's desk. For the last month he's heard those words one too many times for his liking.  
  
"Yes sir"  
  
"There's a leak somewhere and we think we know where it is."  
  
Woody could feel the bottom falling out. He thought he had been so careful when passing information to Tillman and his team.  
  
"I need you to go and talk with this jackass and figure out if we're correct."  
  
"Does this have anything to do with the IA investigation.....?"  
  
"I told you to stop worrying about that ...days ago. I have that all under control, by now Internal Affairs doesn't even know your name...No; this is a more serious situation. Information is being leaked to the FBI."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"I want you to find out. He's waiting to meet you downstairs. My driver will take you somewhere to talk."  
  
Woody wondered if he had enough time to call Tillman. He needed the wire. It was too dangerous to keep the hardware in his office.  
  
"I need to make a quick run...."  
  
"I don't think you understood me....I said take care of this now."  
  
"Yes sir"  
  
So much for the wire Woody thought. He fingered the cellphone in his pocket. If he called Tillman and left the line open....It was a long shot, but he hoped it would work.  
  
"Oh and Hoyt....I don't need to tell you that it's important for him to get the message. I'm sending my driver with you..."  
  
Worthington only sent his driver when things were going to get rough. Some how, Woody had to find a way to get some help. Only there wasn't any time.  
  
Woody recognized the uniform cop standing with Worthington's driver in the garage. They were laughing at some joke when he walked up. Within minutes they were in the car and heading out of the parking garage.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Tillman was just getting ready to grab some lunch when his phone rang.  
  
"Tillman"  
  
On the other end of the line he could hear a muffled Hoyt rambling something about the traffic on Hancock Avenue.  
  
"Hoyt?"  
  
At first he was baffled until it became apparent that Hoyt was not alone in his conversation. Either Hoyt was careless and didn't realize his phone was on...or he wanted Tillman to hear this. Tillman started to record the call.  
  
Tillman listened as Hoyt mentioned the name of a uniformed officer that was on their list of people to watch. He figured Hoyt was trying telling him who was with him. They were apparently in a car heading down Hancock. Tillman smiled. Hoyt could be clever when he wanted to be.  
  
His lunch was forgotten as he listened.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
"So what do you think Hoyt? Am I up for that promotion?"  
  
Woody was at odds to what to say.  
  
"You know, I don't know."  
  
Woody looked up at the rearview mirror while making small talk. The driver gave him the evil eye. He was supposed to be drilling this guy about working undercover for the feds. If it weren't such a deadly serious situation Woody would have laughed at the irony of it all.  
  
The driver pulled the car over off a quiet side street and he asked them all to get out.  
  
"Well... it's like this," the driver said to the uniformed officer. "Hoyt was sent out here to talk to you about some rumors that have been flying around."  
  
Woody breathed a sigh of relief. The more he could get them to talk the more Tillman could get. He stood close and prayed that his battery would hold out.  
  
"What rumors?"  
  
"The rumor that says you have been keeping company with the feds."  
  
"What the hell? You think I'm a snitch...no way."  
  
"So you say... You know this is your lucky day. The chief sent the brainless wonder here to find out what you know. Maybe even help toss you around a bit. But his orders were... overridden."  
  
"Overridden by whom?" Woody asked trying to keep the panic out of his voice. He couldn't help but wonder if this was all an elaborate ploy to flush him out. Or he was just incredibly lucky...  
  
"Cahill. The man himself wants this handled now."  
  
Bingo! Woody told himself that he would by a lottery ticket the second he could. He could finally see a light at the end of the tunnel. Hopefully Tillman was getting all this.  
  
Woody was still pondering about the moment he could get back to his desk at the nineteen when he saw Worthington's driver pull the handgun of his jacket.  
  
He could only stand there in horror as he shot the cop point blank.  
  
"Don't just stand there. Close your damn mouth and get in the car Hoyt."  
  
"You just shot him."  
  
"No shit, just get in the car before someone sees us." He looked Woody up and down and laughed, "Watch the upholstery; you got a little backsplash on you."  
  
~~~~~~  
  
At the sound of the gunshot Tillman stood almost knocking his chair over. He could make out the sounds of the car starting before the signal was lost. The battery was dead on Hoyt's phone. He stopped the recording.  
  
Pay dirt. They had a positive link between Worthington and Cahill. And, he thought with a sickening feeling, the added bonus of a tie to a murder of a police officer. Tillman knew he could take this tape to the attorney general and have Cahill charged by nightfall.  
  
He also knew they had to pull Hoyt immediately. He was now an eye witness to a murder.  
  
He paced for a few minutes trying to piece it all together. The cop was killed because Cahill thought he was working undercover for the Bureau. There was only one way he could know there has a plant working for Worthington. There had to be a leak in his own department.  
  
He had to get Hoyt under wraps and quick. But he knew he couldn't use the standard procedures. He didn't know who he could trust in his very own office.  
  
He picked up the phone and called Washington.  
  
His high from the evidence Hoyt had just procured disappeared. He promised Hoyt he could go back to his old life after he finished his job. That was now impossible. Within seconds he was talking to a Deputy Bernard with the US Marshal's Office, Witness Protection Program.  
  
========================================================================  
  
Rambling crappy chapter I know...I chopped a couple chapters down to just one. I wanted to get this thing in gear and get on with it. 


	8. The Stage is Set

Garret never liked the Federal Building. The conference rooms always had that smell of split coffee and dry erase markers. Those scents always equated to valuable time being wasted listening to a speaker who didn't even like to hear themselves talk.  
  
He sat down at the chair closest to the door and left his coat on.  
  
He could only recognize one face in the room. Walcott. She was the one who told him to be there and to not ask questions. The badges on the rest of the seven people in room made it obvious that they were government. FBI and Marshal by the looks of it. But he never paid that much attention to badges.  
  
He looked at his watch. He still had a few hours of work and he didn't want to cancel his dinner with Abby if he could help it.  
  
The door in the back of the room opened. Detective Hoyt walked in followed by a federal officer that would only come to Garret's shoulder. While Hoyt's eyes were downcast the officer scanned the room like he was making a mental note of everyone there. Garret was even more confused by this impromptu meeting.  
  
Woody took the seat opposite from Garret, as his companion introduced himself as Deputy Bernard with the US Marshal's office. Garret sat up straighter.  
  
"Ms Walcott ...Dr Macy... I'm glad you could both join us on such short notice. Before I begin I must make it clear that any discussions that take place in this room can not leave...under any circumstances."  
  
Garret tried to catch Renee's eye to see if she knew what was going on but she was busy drumming her fingernails on the table top. It was then he noticed that nobody was taking any kind of notes. Usually these government twits are busy making notes on paper so they can generate more paper.  
  
"A little more than four hours ago Detective Hoyt witnessed the homicide of a police officer. The victim and perpetrator were both under investigation by the federal government in connection with a known crime boss."  
  
Garret looked over at Woody who has looking at Bernard but Garret could tell he really wasn't seeing him.  
  
"To bring everyone up to speed, Detective Hoyt has been working with the FBI to gain access to criminal activities here at the local level. Unfortunately, the events of the day have left Detective Hoyt's life in jeopardy. That why we've been called in."  
  
Garret raised his hand "I don't understand what this has to do with me. Why am I even here?"  
  
"Ms Walcott has assured us that you can be trusted and frankly having access to the chief medical examiner will make this operation much more secure.  
  
"Operation?"  
  
"Yes, to provide Detective Hoyt a safe margin security and those around him until such time as a conviction can be reached on Kevin Cahill, we have decided to make appear that Detective Hoyt has been killed in an explosion."  
  
"You're joking right?"  
  
"I don't joke Dr. Macy. In the matter of a few hours Kevin Cahill and a few of his operatives are going to be round up. I believe I safely speak for Ms Walcott when I say the case is pretty damning with Detective Hoyt's testimony."  
  
"I still don't understand why I'm here."  
  
Bernard looked at his watch. "In exactly two hours a medical cadaver is arriving at Logan. We need someone local to sign the body out from the airline."  
  
Garret realized that they planned to use this body as a decoy. As CME, Garret could also make sure that an autopsy was fixed. He stood and turned toward the door.  
  
"This is absurd. No.... no, this absurd and unethical. I'm sorry but you're going to have to find someone else."  
  
Woody spoke up for the first time. "Dr. Macy. If it were just me I'd say, screw it and take my chances. In a few hours they are going to know I was the plant anyway....But...but, I can't take the chance..."  
  
"What he's trying to say Garret," Renee said from across the room, "is if Cahill knows Hoyt is alive and going to testify against him, the odds are he'll use threats against his friends and family to influence his testimony."  
  
Garret read between the lines looking at the faces in the room. If Hoyt didn't "die" people could get hurt. The kid was bound to have family somewhere...then there was Jordan. Garret scrubbed a hand down his face. When everyone had written Hoyt off as a loss Jordan kept a thread of hope alive that he wasn't involved in this mess because he wanted to be. Garret would never forgive himself if she got mixed up in something that he could help prevent.  
  
He was between a rock and the preverbal hard place. He had a feeling Abby would be eating alone that night.  
  
"I'm going to need some help once this...this ...person is on the ground. And as for the autopsy..."  
  
"All we need from you is to claim the body and show up at the scene as the local medical examiner. We've handled operations like this before Dr. Macy. Now if we can all take our seats again I would like to spell out the plan so that everyone is on the same page....Timing is going to be key...."  
  
Garret listened to Deputy Bernard with half an ear. He felt like he just signed his soul over to the devil. Lines had been crossed and the only way to redraw them was to cross and few more.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Woody parked his car on the darkened street and let out a sigh of relief. The idea of driving around with a bomb under his car scared the shit of him. But Bernard assured him that it was fine. The only reason Woody even turned the key to start the car as that Bernard was sitting in the passenger seat.  
  
Although.... he told himself...... he was a dead man anyway.  
  
After Worthington's driver dropped him off at his office he made a quick dash out the door and drove directly to the Federal Building. Once there Tillman told him about Bernard. By the time Woody was debriefed, a chartered plane brought Bernard and his team to Boston.  
  
Bernard didn't mix words. If Woody testified against Cahill as an eye witness to a murder he would have a price on his head. Even after trial he would be a target. He would be given a new name and set up in some... purgatory as far away from Boston as Uncle Sam could get him...He wouldn't be able to contact his family, his friends, or retain anything from his old life.  
  
He had always thought about the witness protection program as some abstract thing. In a million years he never thought he would ever even have contact with the department let alone be the one placed in the system.  
  
Bernard opened the car door to get out. He needed Hoyt to make a public appearance. He was not thrilled about Woody's choice of places but it would meet his requirements. Tillman had filled him in the bar named Pogue and its owner.  
  
"I need you to go inside...make an appearance...talk to as many people as you can. The timeline needs to be set. I'm going to give you exactly fifteen minutes."  
  
Woody couldn't make his feet move. Bernard shut the car door. He has been with the program for too many years to count. He could see the signs.  
  
"Detective Hoyt, if it's any consolation I agree with you."  
  
"About what? That it sucks that I have to give up everything that I've worked for...everything that meaning anything to me, just for doing my job....or that Cahill is only looking at sitting around with three squares, and that's IF he's convicted."  
  
"I have placed dozens of ...people in the system, most of them would sell out their own mothers to stay alive. But there are the ones like yourself, which the program was intentionally developed for. Yes, it's unfortunate that eventually have to give up your career and your name, but because of your sacrifice a dangerous man will be incarcerated for a very long time."  
  
Woody let out a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. Ignoring the outburst, Bernard opened the car door again and stepped out on the street talking into a walkie-talkie. He walked across the street and stood in a doorway.  
  
Fifteen minutes. Woody had fifteen minutes to say goodbye to his old life. With a heavy heart Woody made his way inside the pub.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Garret opened the manifest and compared with the body in the coffin that was wheeled into the airport cargo area.  
  
"Your plan isn't going to work." he said to the two deputies flanking him. "This body is female."  
  
"There won't be enough of it to determine the sex after the explosion. We just need the rescue team to verify that there was a fatality. You're job is to answer the call with your ME and stand back as we come in a sweep-up the scene."  
  
"I didn't think that was the Marshal's office jurisdiction."  
  
"It's not. For the sake of the operation the team will be identified as FBI. Deputy Bernard briefed you on this earlier Dr. Macy."  
  
"I guess I missed that part when I was trying to figure out how I'm going to sleep at night until this whole thing is over."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Max was close to closing but a few patrons still mingled around. He looked up from wiping down the bar. A shadow fell over his face.  
  
"You can turn around and walk straight out from where you came from. I'm closed."  
  
"You still look open to me." Woody took a seat at the bar. "I've had a shitty day. Would it be too much to ask for a drink?"  
  
Max pointed a finger at Woody's face and opened his mouth. Before he could say anything a voice from the back of the room spoke.  
  
"Just give him a drink Dad. The sooner he drinks up the sooner he'll be gone."  
  
Woody jumped when he heard Jordan's voice. He didn't see her parked out front and assumed she wasn't there. He stared at the bar top in front of him. He really didn't want to see her, not like this. Max slammed a glass down in front of him and splashed some liquor in the bottom of it. Woody noticed it was barely enough to cover the bottom of the glass. He looked at his watch he had thirteen minutes...  
  
"Drink up and get your sorry ass out of here."  
  
Woody took a deep breath. Jordan slipped into the seat next to him. He felt her more than saw her.  
  
"Dad could you?" she asked never looking away from Woody's profile.  
  
Max told her he would be around if she needed him. Woody lifted the drink to his mouth and threw it back. The next thirteen minutes were either going to be the longest or the shortest of his life.  
  
Jordan reached out and touched his shelve. Her hand was warm. He could feel the heat on his cold skin through the layers of his clothes. When he turned to her it was all he could do to not beg her forgiveness for the cruel words, for the professional stresses, the risks his relationship with her and her father had placed them in. He wanted to apologize for ever having tried to make a home in Boston...  
  
"This was a mistake." he said more to himself then to her.  
  
She misunderstood his words and a slight smile crossed her face. "Yes, it was a mistake...it's not too late to get out Woody...I'll help you. We'll figure out a way to get out of this together."  
  
He wanted to scream that it was too late. He wanted to take her hand and squeeze it telling it was all a lie He wanted to hold her close and bury his face in her hair forgetting the horrors of the day. He wanted to hear her tell him that the last few months were only a bad dream. He wanted to spend the rest of his life watching her smile....He wanted to cry but he didn't know if he could remember how.  
  
Jordan watched the myriad of emotions cross his haggard face. Then his expressions died. The light in his eyes was gone. She let go of his arm.  
  
"I'm sorry Jordan, but it's pointless." He stood and tossed some money on the bar. "Good bye."  
  
Jordan watched him walk away his shoulders slumped like the weight of the world were on them. The finality of his words struck a cord in her. She jumped off the stool and followed him outside to confront him one more time. Max saw her leave and tagged on her heals. She had to get through to him. She ran to the top of the stairs only to see the tail lights of his car pull away. When she looked like she was going to go after him Max put an arm around her and led her back inside.  
  
"Jordan honey, let him go. He's not worth it."  
  
That was the problem, she thought. She was beginning to think maybe he was worth it.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I kind of liked that car"  
  
Bernard didn't look away from the blaze in front of him.  
  
"You won't need it anymore Detective Hoyt. We need to be going."  
  
Bernard waited until him had Hoyt safely tucked away in the vehicle that would take him to the safe house to call in the rest of his team. The bomb malfunctioned. They needed to be on top of the scene earlier than planned. He would still have to wait for Macy and his people to arrive and then they would clear the scene before the press could arrive. He hoped that Macy had a handle on his people. Tillman warned him about Hoyt's ties to the ME's office. Bernard knew it was going to be sloppy and he hated sloppy.  
  
===============================================================  
  
I know I'm pushing the envelope of believability...but it was fun to write! 


	9. Do You Believe in Love?

Jordan couldn't remember ever being so tired. She looked at the clock hanging in her kitchen. Eighteen hours. Eighteen hours ago she was standing next to a smoldering car looking at an incinerated corpse. It seemed like a life time ago. The day ended with more questions then it began with.  
  
Earlier she had watched Walcott standing next to the police commissioner during a press conference about the two deaths in the department. Walcott refused to answer any questions about either case. The presses frustration matched Jordan's.  
  
Lily was right. Jordan was there she held the proof in her hands. Then why couldn't she shake the feeling that he was out there someplace...very much alive.  
  
She closed her eyes and tried to tell herself that it was true he was dead. But it wouldn't work.  
  
The phone rang. She picked it up before the ring stopped resonating. There was silence on the other end. Her crank caller picked the wrong moment to call.  
  
"What do you want?!"  
  
Her answer was a dial tone. Jordan slammed the phone back down on the cradle and then took it back off. She decided to call the telephone company in the morning and get her phone number changed.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Woody pushed the disconnect button on the phone just as Tillman rounded the corner from the kitchen.  
  
"Hoyt, what the hell are you doing!" Tillman grabbed his cell phone out of Woody's hands. "You know the rules. You can't contact anyone."  
  
He looked at the call log and shook his head when he recognized the number Woody dialed.  
  
"Aw man. Leave her alone. She is trouble. Cavanaugh is already one step away from blowing this thing sky high and getting us all killed in the process."  
  
For the first time all day Woody tried to smile. Tillman had told him about Jordan's tear though FBI field office and her picture was on the evening news with Worthington. He told Woody that she smelled a conspiracy.....and rightly so. He told him that Jordan was acting like a hound on the scent and it concerned him.  
  
The phone rang in Tillman's hands. He stepped away and answered it. After a few seconds he told Woody to turn on the television. The local station was reporting that they had Kevin Cahill in custody and that they found the new chief of police dead in his office of apparent suicide.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Jordan arrived at the morgue the next morning and locked herself in her office, warning Emmy that she would personally make sure she ended up on a slab if anyone disturbed her.  
  
That was an hour ago.  
  
She sat at her desk with a manila folder in her hands not daring to open it. Inside were the crime scene photos from the explosion.  
  
Finally, she couldn't put it off any longer. She had seen pictures similar to these a thousand times. It was part of her job. She opened the cover and put her hand to her mouth as her breath caught in her throat..  
  
So much for professional apathy she thought.  
  
One by one she thumbed through the prints. She studied each shot. Jordan knew she was missing something.... She couldn't quite put her finger on it. The photos began to blur as stray tears began to dot her cheeks.  
  
Jordan wiped her face quickly when she heard a knock on the door. She looked up when Howard Stiles peeked inside.  
  
"I thought I'd find you here. How are you doing Jordan?"  
  
"Eleven times."  
  
Howard stepped into the room with a confused look on his face. "Eleven times Jordan?"  
  
"I have been asked that question eleven times today and it's not even lunch time yet."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Jordan arched an eyebrow. Howard assumed she had that statement a few times also.  
  
"What do you want Howard?"  
  
"Actually I'm here to see Garret. He called me this morning, but he's busy with a family right now."  
  
"I'm sure he won't be long. You'll need find somewhere else to wait for him...I'm busy."  
  
"Oh, I'm fine right here." he said making himself at home on her sofa. "I understand you are not planning on attending Detective Hoyt's memorial service."  
  
Emmy told her that the police department had called and issued the medical examiner's office and personal invitation to the service later in the week.  
  
"I can understand, given the questionable circumstances of his passing that you might be a little apprehensive.... but I hear you are denying that he's even gone. I'm concerned about you Jordan."  
  
"Howard, if you're planning on psycho analyzing somebody today...you can just wait for Garret. He needs a refill on his Prozac as it is."  
  
"I'd rather talk to you Jordan. Why do you think you're having such a hard time believing his gone?"  
  
Jordan closed the manila folder and pushed it away from her.  
  
"Because he's not dead."  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"I just do Howard...now can you leave my alone?"  
  
"It's hard to lose someone you love...denial is a very natural response."  
  
"I'm denying anything and I certainly don't love him."  
  
"Did you ever sleep with him?"  
  
"No, of course not."  
  
"How much weight have you lost in the last few months Jordan?"  
  
"Isn't that a personal question?"  
  
"I just asked you if you had sex with a man and you didn't even bat an eye."  
  
"Because I was too shocked."  
  
"Answer the question Jordan."  
  
"I haven't weighed myself in a long time."  
  
"I bet your weight loss started the same time you stopped sleeping."  
  
"I'm sleeping fine!"  
  
"I still think you're breathtaking even with those circles under your eyes....I suspect it all started about the same time Detective Hoyt left the nineteen."  
  
"You don't want to go there Howard."  
  
"How did you feel when this all started? When he went to work for the chief. He let you down didn't he?"  
  
"Yes! I feel like I lost my.... best friend... damn it...Are you satisfied?"  
  
Jordan stood up from her desk and stood in front of the window. She didn't know what made her madder. The fact that Howard was badgering her or that he was making her feel things she didn't want to face.  
  
"When we lose a loved one a hole is left...."  
  
"There you go again...I don't love him."  
  
"You just called him your best friend and you've kept him at arm's length. Were you afraid he was going to leave too?"  
  
"I don't want to talk about this."  
  
"The men in you love always do this to you Jordan...don't they? They come into your life and steal your heart....everything is wonderful until sex enters the picture and then it blows up in your face. Now sex is just a bodily function, an impulse that has no place into the relationships that really count."  
  
Jordan turned from the window and laughed in Howard's face.  
  
"I heard that platonic relationships are supposed to be safer"  
  
"There are millions of intimate couples in this country that would disagree with you."  
  
"The good it did me...... He's gone.....Wait! I didn't mean that...Damn it Howard you're putting words in my mouth!"  
  
"I'm just getting you to accept the fact that he's dead Jordan."  
  
Jordan looked at anything but Howard's face as he stood up. She could feel the prickle of tears in her eyes as he placed a hand on her arm.  
  
"Do you think you could have saved him Jordan?"  
  
"......Maybe"  
  
"Do you think he loved you?"  
  
"You'll just have to ask him when he shows up"  
  
Howard picked up the closed folder from the desk and held it out in front of him.  
  
"He's dead Jordan, you saw the body yourself."  
  
"We're done, Howard."  
  
Jordan walked over to her door and pulled it open. Howard handed her the folder.  
  
"Do you believe in love Jordan? Truly believe in it?"  
  
"I thought I did...I don't know....No, not anymore."  
  
"What if I told you there are so many people who love you? Many right here in this building."  
  
"I would say it wasn't worth it."  
  
Howard made a noise in the back of his throat and nodded a few times before he headed down the hallway. Jordan leaned back against her doorway. Howard left nerves raw and her heart questioning.  
  
Jordan followed his path out of her office. She needed to escape the feelings that were fighting to surface. When she passed Trace she threw the crime scene photos on Nigel's desk. She couldn't bring herself to look at them anymore. She didn't stop when they scattered on the floor.  
  
The hair on the back of neck stood up when she walked passed the conference room. There was a man inside; his back was to her....but the build....the posture..... He turned and she looked in a pair of familiar blue eyes. Jordan's knees buckled for a second until she realized it wasn't Woody, but she could break her stare.  
  
Calvin Hoyt looked at the brunette standing there gaping at him in the hallway. He had been getting looks like that all morning. That momentary gaze like they've seen a ghost, than the apologetic pity. He was tired of it. He didn't want stares, he wanted answers.  
  
He began with the police department who directed him to the FBI field office. They told him to go back to Kewanee. Cal finally asked the cab driver to take him to the morgue.  
  
The chief medical examiner told him to sit tight and that he would send in some grief counselor. Calvin didn't want a grief counselor... he wanted his brother.  
  
His family was already distraught. He left his mother with her rosary and his father trying to make sense of his child dieing before him. The idea of returning home without Woody left him feeling both angry and helpless. He called out to the brunette.  
  
"Are you this 'grief' councilor Macy was talking about? If you are, you can save yourself the trouble. If you can't tell me where my brother is.... I don't want to talk to you." 


	10. Limbo

Brother. Woody's brother Cal. Jordan blinked a couple of times as he stepped closer. He stooped to look at her name tag.  
  
"Cavanaugh? Are you Jordan?"  
  
"Yes, yes and you must be Cal."  
  
Cal's face softened slightly as he remembered talking to Woody about Jordan. At first he teased Woody about the chick named after a boy. But for the last few months, whenever Cal called, the only time he could hear a smile in Woody's voice was when Cal asked about her.  
  
"He talked about you a lot."  
  
Jordan wished she could say the same. But she never really asked Woody about his family.  
  
"I hope it wasn't all bad" she said with a cheerless smile.  
  
"No...never." His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "What the hell's going on here? Nobody will talk to me. What's happened Jordan? Where is he? Where's my brother's body?  
  
Jordan didn't know what to say. Her logical mind was telling her to accept the fact that he was dead. But her heart was still refusing to.  
  
"I wish I knew Cal."  
  
Cal turned away from her his fists clenched at his side. He would love to hit something....anything. Instead he let out a yell that made Jordan jump back.  
  
"DAMN HIM! Damn him all to hell for coming here to this Godforsaken city. And damn you for making it easy for him to stay."  
  
Cal looked over her head and down the hallway toward where he knew they kept the bodies.  
  
"Find him Jordan...I need to take him home."  
  
"I will. I promise one way or the other...."  
  
"Mr. Hoyt? Hi, my name's Lily."  
  
Cal looked passed the shock-then-pity on the pretty blonde face. She looked kind. Almost too sweet to work in a place like the morgue. He was suddenly very homesick.  
  
"Mr. Hoyt, why don't you come with me?"  
  
Cal turned an apologetic eye to Jordan. "I'm...I'm sorry I blew up like that. It's just I haven't eat or slept....that's no excuse."  
  
"This has been hard on all of us." Jordan pulled a slip of paper out of her lab coat and scribbled down her cell phone number and handed it to him. "If I hear anything I'll be in contact. If you need to talk...I'm here."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Bug almost tripped over the scattered crime scene photos when he tried to sit down at his desk. He grumbled as he scooped them up.  
  
By the condition of the corpse he realized that he was looking at Hoyt. He scanned them all and then scanned them again.  
  
"Hummmm"  
  
He sat down at his desk and pulled out a set of verniers. He set the static end of the sliding rule on the photograph and took measurements of the bones presented by the missing flesh. He was still working studiously when Nigel sat down next to him.  
  
"What have you got there, mate?"  
  
"Take a look at this."  
  
Nigel looked over Bug's shoulder and saw that he was working with the crime photos from the Hoyt case.  
  
"You better hold those close to your vest. I was supposed to turn those into the government."  
  
Bug gave him a look that questioned Nigel why he found them scattered across the floor, but he chose to keep his mouth shut.  
  
"Look at this pelvis..."  
  
Nigel picked up the photo of the body sitting in the driver's seat of the car. The lower half was ash but the bones were fully intact.  
  
"What am I looking at?"  
  
"Look at the ratio between the width and the separation of the bones."  
  
Nigel looked closer and noticed the wide spread of the hipbones. If the body had not already been identified it would lead him to believe that the body was female.  
  
"Unless, Woody was a little more than met the eye...I'd say we've got a different victim."  
  
"He was sitting Bug. The weight of the upper body could have spread the pelvis in its fragile state. We can't make that determination from photos alone."  
  
"Look at this..."  
  
Bug showed him the composite measurements he took of the body comparing them to the size of the known dimensions of the frame of the car.  
  
"I never thought I looked eye to eye with that jackass, figuratively or....... literally. This person was less than six foot. Probably around five-five maybe five-nine maximum."  
  
Nigel picked up a magnifying glass and looked at eh the exposed extremities. The bones were thinner and shorter then he would expect for a person of Woody's size and ....gender. The skull presented high cheekbones and graceful forehead. His heart began to pound. The body couldn't be Woody. The skull had the classic angles of someone with Asian roots...not Midwestern milk feed stock.  
  
"Bloody hell....... We need to take this to Macy"  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Garret sat at his desk reading through a pile of paperwork that needed to be signed. After he read the same line four times he took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  
  
He should have talked to Howard when he asked him in. But he couldn't do it. They ended up talking about Jordan instead. Howard is concerned that she is not accepting Hoyt's death as a seasoned medical examiner should. He recommended that Garret try to talk her into going to the memorial service so that she could start moving on.  
  
Garret didn't have the heart to tell him that he wouldn't be attending either. It was all he could do to blow smoke up Calvin Hoyt's ass, telling him that he'd contact him as soon as the FBI crime lab had completed their investigation. Garret ached as he watched the frustrated young man grasping at straws trying to figure out why the brother he loved and admired was violently murdered because of his supposed ties to the mob.  
  
"Dr Macy, I think you had better look at this."  
  
Garret glanced up to see Nigel and Bug standing in his doorway. He sat up when they handed him the crime scene photos from the bombing.  
  
"How the hell did you get these?"  
  
Nigel smiled and said "I snagged a copy before the feds raided the place."  
  
"Do you know how many regulations you are breaking by just making copies?"  
  
"That's not the point. Bug found something very interesting...."  
  
Nigel pointed out the scribbling Bug had made on the margins of the pictures.  
  
"...and if you take a close look at...."  
  
"Shut the door." Garret said cutting Nigel off.  
  
Garret could feel a panic attack growing to match the migraine that was throbbing behind his eyes. He shoved the photos in the folder and tossed them on his paper riddled desk.  
  
"For the moment I'm going to ignore the fact that you went against a directive and didn't turn over everything on this case. What you have here is pure speculation. You can not make these determinations by a two dimensional photographs alone!"  
  
Garret rubbed his temples and pushed away from his desk.  
  
"I know what this looks like. We need to let the FBI crime lab make these kinds of determinations. If...there is .....Shit. It's out of our hands. Just forget about this, both of you. Not a word to anyone especially Jordan. She's already taking everything hard enough as it is...."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The day of the memorial service came and went, with Jordan waiting for any word about the investigation and Garret watching in anguish as she met brick ball after brick wall.  
  
If it weren't for her daily phone calls and some times visits to Agent Tillman, Jordan would have sworn there was no investigation at all. Tillman assured her that Woody's body would be released to the family as soon as they were done.  
  
Days turned into weeks and Jordan turned into herself. She was there when Garret arrived in the mornings and stayed after he would leave for the evening. She was settling into a routine that scared everyone around her.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
"Jordan, as your boss I'm telling you to get out of here. As your friend I'm saying come have dinner with me."  
  
Jordan smiled up at him. It was the third time that week Garret had asked her to eat with him. She knew he was just concerned.  
  
"I already split a pizza with Charlie...maybe next time."  
  
Garret could tell it was a boldfaced lie but he chose to let it slide. He knew she was at a vulnerable time. Her new found fragile acceptance of Hoyt's...death was tempered with the realization that she cared for him more than she wanted to. Garret could see it in her eyes whenever she thought nobody was looking at her.  
  
"Then go home and get some sleep."  
  
"I think I will. Good night Garret."  
  
"Good, get your stuff...I'll walk you to your car."  
  
Garret painted her into a corner. She really didn't want to go home. She would only pace her floors too afraid to face her dream-filled sleep.  
  
Sometimes she would wake up to the smell of smoke and burned flesh. Other times she would wake up with her sheets wrapped tightly around her feeling the echo of a beard roughen check on the side of her neck and the sight of laughing blue eyes on the pillow next to her.  
  
She grabbed her coat and met him by the elevator.  
  
"Jordan, I want you to take a few days off and get out of town for awhile."  
  
"That's a surprise. You hate it when I leave town."  
  
Garret had to smile at her statement. "Usually when you leave town I get a call saying your incarcerated or being questioned. No, I'm serious Jordan; I think a few days away will do you good."  
  
"Does this sudden need to get my out of town have to do with the opening arguments in the Cahill trial starting on Tuesday?"  
  
It was the exact reason but he wasn't going to tell her that. Renee told him that Hoyt would be one of the first witnesses on the stand. He wanted Jordan as far away from town as he could get her until everything was over. Garret told himself it was for both her safety and her sanity, but the real reason was he knew she would never forgive him once she knew of his part in the whole charade.  
  
Jordan was tempted. The idea of not having to be bombarded with the media circus that would be surrounding the proceedings sounded heavenly to her battered soul. Only she wanted to be there when they convicted the bastard that had more than once turned her life inside out.  
  
"No, Garret I'm planning on staying right here in town."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Two hours before the gavel was set to fall, the courthouse was already filled with the reporters and their cameras. Renee Walcott stopped briefly to speak to the press. Fielding the media was one of the least favorite parts of the job, but it was a necessary evil and she handled them efficiently. Security was tight tighter than normal. If that could be possible, she thought. The press questioned the US Marshal's very evident presence in every corner. Renee reassured them that the added security was necessary.  
  
"Ms. Walcott! We understand there will be a surprise witness for the prosecution on the stand today...would you care to elaborate?"  
  
"I'm not at liberty to comment on the case at this time. Thank you."  
  
With that Renee made her way inside the closed doors of the courtroom. She let out a sigh as she noticed her staff busily setting up in the quiet room. A young bailiff looked at her.  
  
"Are you alright ma'am?"  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
Renee straightened her jacket and put on her game face. She walked over to a secluded corner of the room. She didn't feel she owed Jordan Cavanaugh anything, but she did owe Garret a heads on what was coming. She pressed her speed dial. Garret answered on the second ring.  
  
"He'll be on the stand sometime this morning."  
  
His response was silence.  
  
"I thought I'd let you know before we briefed the press. Oh and Garret, keep her out of my courtroom."  
  
She heard a murmur and then silence as he hung up.  
  
===============================================================  
  
Don't worry about Woody's bind Shadowfax... He's just going to need some time and a little luck...You'll see in the next post. I need to retool a few things and I hope to have it up soon! 


	11. I Love You, Goodbye

Garret watched as Jordan finished closing the body on the table in front of her.  
  
"Jordan, I need to talk to you."  
  
"Man, that sounded ominous."  
  
Garret noticed she sounded almost normal. He cringed as he realized she was beginning to heal. He almost felt it would have been easier if she was still hurting.  
  
"Geez, Garret it can't be that bad...or is it?"  
  
"It's about the trial."  
  
She swore to herself she would be front and center to watch Cahill be put away...but as the opening arguments began she couldn't even open the paper. Jordan wondered if something had already jeopardized the case.  
  
"Jordan, I don't know where to begin."  
  
"You are scaring me now."  
  
"Walcott is calling a witness to the stand today that..."  
  
"Jordan!" Garret and Jordan turned to Lily's yell from the doorway. "You were right! He's alive. Woody's alive. They showed him on the TV being escorted into the courthouse. He's the surprise witness they talking about...."  
  
There was utter silence as Lily's animated announcement trailed out. Jordan held her breath for a moment. The passed few months flashed in her mind. Everything. The last confrontation she had with Woody; the finality of his last words to her. It was almost like he knew he was going to die. He did know, because it was all staged. The scene, the body. It was all a lie.  
  
"I need to get down there."  
  
"Jordan, you can't."  
  
"Garret..."  
  
"He's right Jordan. It's a madhouse down there. You won't be able to get in. The marshals have the place sealed off.  
  
The reality of the situation hit Jordan she braced her hands on the edge of the examination table and looked down at the body in front of her. There was a body at the scene. She spent hours chasing her tail trying to find answers for Woody's family and for herself. For weeks she thought she was loosing her mind.  
  
"If Woody wasn't in that car....who was?"  
  
"A medical cadaver."  
  
Lily gasped and Jordan glared.  
  
"How could you know that Garret?" Jordan asked. "Unless....oh my God. You've known all along, haven't you.....?"  
  
Garret knew this moment was coming.  
  
"....And you didn't say anything..."  
  
"Jordan"  
  
"Garret, how could you."  
  
"I didn't have a choice."  
  
"I thought we were friends Garret."  
  
"Walcott called me the day that officer from the twenty-seven was found shot. Woody was there. That's when I first found out he had been working with the FBI building a case against the mob. Something went wrong. I don't know all the details but, I do know that they didn't have a choice."  
  
"You did though, Garret, you had a choice. You lied through you teeth not only to me but to Woody's family..." Jordan looked over at Lily who couldn't decide if she wanted to cry or not. "....and his friends.....and for that I don't know if I can ever forgive you."  
  
Even as the words came out of her mouth Jordan knew she was being unreasonable, but she was confused and hurt and Garret gave her a target to take her frustrations. She walked passed him and out the door.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Jordan spent the rest of her day fighting the desire to storm the courtroom. She caught a glimpse of Bernard during a news conference after testimony had been suspended for the day. He was a marshal not the FBI. She ignored the fact that the marshal's were in charge of the witness protection program.  
  
She would wait. After the trial was over, she'd have all the time in the world...to box his ears.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Two days into Woody's testimony Jordan had a visitor. It was late but she was still awake. She cracked open the door of her apartment and came face to face with Blackie Conroy. She tried to shut the door in his face.  
  
"Jordan is that the way to greet an old friend of your father's."  
  
Blackie pushed his way into Jordan's apartment.  
  
"Get out of here before I call the police."  
  
"I'll only take a moment of your time. How have you been Jordan?"  
  
"Your moment is running out."  
  
"Jordan, I just wanted to....a...deliver a message for me. I ...appreciate your friend, Detective Hoyt, having balls enough to testify against Cahill. He has saved me a lot of trouble. Let him know that if I can ever return the favor..."  
  
"He didn't do anything for you..."  
  
"Of course not; he did it for you."  
  
"Detective Hoyt was just doing his job."  
  
"Of course."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Detective Hoyt, your dismissed."  
  
With those four words the judge let Woody leave the courtroom for the last time. The last few days he was bombarded from all directions while sitting on the witness stand. He was tired and battered.  
  
He knew within the next twenty fours he would wake up in a new town with a new name starting a new life, tired, battered and homesick.  
  
Outside the courthouse walls, the sound of heavy rain beating the windows matched his mood. Surrounded by guards, he made their way through the drab corridors back to the small meeting room that had been his holding cell for the extent of the trial.  
  
Woody stole a glance at Bernard as he walked into the room. At that moment he couldn't decide who he hated worse. The man that stood to be convicted in the other room or Bernard, who sat there like God himself , planning Woody's life down to the most infinitesimal detail.  
  
"There's been a delay." Bernard's deep emotionless voice said. "This storm has the airport is closed until at least morning. It's impossible to take you back to the safe house at that point...we are looking into other options."  
  
"Then let me go home."  
  
"If you are referring to your apartment, you're belongings were shipped back to Wisconsin weeks ago. We are working on a room at the Seasons right now. It's close and easy to secure. I'll be back when I have something definite"  
  
Bernard left the room leaving Woody alone with Tillman.  
  
"You pulled it off Hoyt. I don't know how to thank you."  
  
"Thank by getting me an hour."  
  
Tillman shook his head. They had had this conversation before. The first time was when he found Hoyt trying to call Dr. Cavanaugh. Hoyt wanted one hour to say goodbye to his friend. An hour to explain why he treated her the way he did. Hoyt told him that he couldn't go to his new life without knowing that Jordan could forgive him.  
  
There was more to it than that and Tillman knew it. Hoyt wanted to say goodbye to the woman he loved.  
  
"You know I can't Woody."  
  
"Can you say that if you were in my shoes?"  
  
Tillman looked away. Hoyt hit a nerve. Tillman thought about he woman he swore he would marry the minute this case was over. The idea of never seeing her again because of circumstances out of his control ate at his gut.  
  
"It's not smart."  
  
"If I were smart I wouldn't be in the situation I am in now."  
  
"Let me talk to Bernard, don't get your hopes up....we'll think of something."  
  
"Thank you"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Bernard radioed to make sure the cars were all in place. With luck the rain would provide enough cover to get Hoyt in and out of the Pearl Street apartment building before any one realized his was there.  
  
"Alright Hoyt, we're here. I have my team stationed around the building. I'll have a guy right outside her door. When you are ready to leave, just come out."  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Jordan heard the elevators doors close outside her apartment door. For some reason her heart began to pound. She wasn't surprised when she heard a knock at the door. He was right outside her door and she could feel it. She knew this moment would come. She rehearsed what she would say to him from the second she found out he was alive. She flung the door open.  
  
Woody stood outside looking like a battle wary soldier returning from war. His hair was standing on end like he had raked his hands though it a hundred times. The loose tie around his neck looked as tired and limp as the suit he was wearing.  
  
"Hello Jordan"  
  
Jordan opened her mouth to deliver the harsh words that were bubbling up through her, but they vanished. She reached out a trembling hand to touch his cheek.  
  
She traced his face with her fingers like a blind person would, studying each ridge and each line. His face was different somehow she thought, but yet the same. Little lines radiated for around his mouth showing the stress he had been under. And then it hit her as she ran her fingers over his brows. Her farm boy was gone.  
  
"May I come in?" he asked.  
  
Jordan stepped aside. She slowly closed the door and locked it; trying to vainly lock out the rest of the world. She turned to him and held her arms open. Woody hesitated only a second before he stepped into them.  
  
"Tell me to go to hell, Jordan."  
  
His voice sounded coarse, almost unrecognizable to her. She fought back the tears and held him tight. Her lips brushed his ears as she whispered...  
  
"It's okay. It's over. It's all over."  
  
Without reservation Jordan lifted her face and kissed him. At first his lips were soft and tentative. But soon the anger and frustration of the last few months manifested itself as one kiss lead to another. He pulled away the silent question in his eyes. Her nod was barely noticeable but it spoke volumes to him. Woody lifted her into his arms and walked toward her bed watching her face with every step. He laid her on top and followed her down. He kissed her deeply pouring out his heart and soul. Jordan stopped thinking for a moment. She stopped thinking about how she was deceived by people she held dear. She stopped thinking her lose of trust. It was time to just follow her heart openly. Tomorrow would be soon enough to search for answers. Tonight she just wanted to start over...with the man who had her heart. The man who made her believe in love.  
  
Woody reached up underneath her shirt and splayed his hands over the skin of her back, marveling at the feminine taper from shoulders to waist. "I love Jordan" he whispered and she snuggled closer. One hour wouldn't be enough he admitted to himself. Bernard was going to have to hold a gun to his head to get him to leave before the stormy night was over.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Woody tucked her head onto his shoulder as the sun lightened the milky glaze her windows. His breathing was struggling to return to normal when Jordan gave him a lazy smile.  
  
Their lovemaking was intense and passionate. His touch was sure and loving. He took her to heights she never knew truly existed. Just when she thought she couldn't go any further he would only prove her wrong.  
  
There wasn't any talk of the past or the future. No walls, no pretences, just raw, unconnected words of encouragement and gratitude.  
  
There was no laughter either....  
  
....only a dark desperation; like he was trying to fill a lifetime into a single night.  
  
Woody traced a finger down her cheek, his eyes were so consuming she had to look away. He rolled out of bed totally unashamed of his nudity and walked over to look out one of the clear panels of glass that faced the front of the building. He was still staring out when Jordan wrapped her arms around him. He leaned back for a second and she placed a kiss between his shoulder blades. She rested her ear against his back relished in the sound of his beating heart and the feel of his skin so whole so alive.  
  
"I have to go. They're waiting for me."  
  
His voice softly rumbled through his body and echoed in her ear. A cold stab of fear shot through her. She stepped away from him.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I have to go Jordan. I'm sorry."  
  
Jordan didn't try to control the panic in her voice. "You're coming back..."  
  
Woody turned to grab his clothes and she didn't miss the tears that fell down his face.  
  
"No" Jordan exhaled. It felt like the air had been forced out of her lungs as the reality of the situation hit her.  
  
"It's the only way I'm sorry."  
  
Jordan looked out the window and saw Bernard standing at the curb. Unmarked cars lined the block. She ran around to the rear of the apartment and raised the window. A cold blast of the early autumn dawn air hit her face but she was beyond feeling it. The feds had sealed off the alley.  
  
"No!" she screamed.  
  
Jordan turned back; he was dressed and ready to leave his rumpled suit jacket hanging on the back of the chair. She lunged herself at him kicking and hitting.  
  
"You told me you loved me! You promised me damn it. You promised you'd always be there for me."  
  
Woody knew he made that promise a long time ago, before any of this had happened. It didn't make him feel less guilty.  
  
"Sweet Jesus, I do love you Jordan."  
  
"You can't do this...you can't go."  
  
"If it were just me I would I say the hell with it; but I need to think of my family....of you... Jordan I love you more than anything. Even my own life. I can't take the chance you could get hurt."  
  
"So you'd rather do it yourself?"  
  
"Jordan, please stop. I don't want to leave you like this."  
  
She griped the front of his shirt. "I'll go with you. Yes. I'll go with you."  
  
She franticly looked around the floor for her clothes. Finding nothing, she ran to her dresser pulling out drawers oblivious the items rolling off the top in her haste.  
  
Jordan felt his hands cup her shoulders. "You can't Jordan."  
  
She turned into him. "Yes, yes I can. It's not too late. Bernard can get me a new name too."  
  
He took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. She could feel the wetness of his tears as they mixed with hers.  
  
"Your life is here. "  
  
"I want to be with you."  
  
A look of shear pain crossed his face.  
  
He whispered "its impossible Jordan. You have a responsibility to the people who need you to find them justice and their loved one's peace of mind."  
  
"I don't care....." he placed a finger to her mouth.  
  
"You may feel that right now, but it wouldn't be long before you would regret your decision. And for the rest of your life you'd end up hating yourself..."  
  
"What about you Hoyt? Do you regret your decision?"  
  
"From the second I made it."  
  
"Then why did you do it? Was Cahill worth it?"  
  
"I had a responsibility also. The scales needed to be balanced."  
  
There was a quiet knock on the door; the sound wrenched the heart from Jordan's chest. The time had come. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair not willing to give up. Not yet.  
  
"Jordan I love you, with all my heart and soul. I always will. You need to believe that."  
  
He stepped away leaving her feeling as cold as death. The door closed quietly behind him.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The airplane leveled off as Bernard handed Woody his dossier.  
  
"As of this moment Detective Woodrow Hoyt doesn't exist."  
  
"He died before we turned off Pearl Street." His voice cold even to his own ears. He was beyond caring anymore.  
  
"I want you to know your government is thankful for you sacrifices..."  
  
"Fuck my government."  
  
"I'll leave you alone to look over the paper work."  
  
Bernard stood and walked to the forward of the plane. Woody threw the envelope into the seat he had just vacated.  
  
"Fuck me." he spat looking out the window.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Christmas was always a tough season. This year it was especially cold and damp. The kind of cold that slices you to the bone. Jordan had just left an impromptu holiday party at Pogue. The roaring fireplace pushing away the chill of the evening. Everyone eating, drinking, singing, and dancing like they didn't have a care in the world and she was the life of the party. Some days were easier than others. Eddie asked to see her home and she told him no. She didn't think she would be able to carry her end of the conversation.  
  
Jordan stood outside her building and looked up at the bitter cold sky watching her breath as it crystallized in the air. In and Out. In and Out. Sometimes she thought it would have been easier if he did die in the explosion, that day so long ago.  
  
She walked up the three flights of stairs to her apartment and opened the door. She looked at her small apartment with mixed feelings. She needed to move. The place was unpractical. She couldn't give it up, not yet.  
  
She ran her hand down the kitchen counter and humming a song she heard on the way home. She stopped her closet and opened the door. She reached in deep, deep in the back, and pulled out the wrinkled suit coat. Howard had told her a number of times that she should throw it out. She even tried a few times, but could never seem to do it. For the first few weeks she couldn't bring herself to put it away. Soon after that she would only hang it up, just bring it out again. Those days were getting few and far between now. But tonight she needed it out. She pulled the jacket on, knowing right where her fingers would hit the cuff. She knew the exact colors of the threads in its cloth. She wrapped her arms around herself and buried her nose in the collar. His scent was long since replaced with her own.  
  
The phone rang once. She reached to answer it but it stopped ringing. Her crank caller didn't call as frequently as they used to. She decided to double check with Mrs. Granger to make sure she hadn't called. Jordan picked up the phone and pressed the speed dial. It was answered on the second ring.  
  
"Mrs. Granger did you just call?" Jordan whispered into the phone.  
  
It was habit to whisper to Mrs. Granger at this time of night.  
  
"No honey, it wasn't me."  
  
"Oh ok. I thought...I thought maybe he woke up. I just...."  
  
"Jordan dear, we went through this earlier. It's got to be forty below out there. He's sleeping like an angel, all warm and snug. You can pick him up first thing in the morning. Enjoy a night off, have a glass of wine and take a long bath. You deserve it."  
  
Jordan knew she was right. It was too cold. She wiped a tear away from her face.  
  
"Alright, I'll see you in the morning."  
  
Jordan hung up the phone and poured herself a glass of wine. She carried it over to her bed setting in on the night stand. Tomorrow would be soon enough to look at those summer blue eyes and kiss those dimpled fingers. She lay down and pulled the jacket tighter around herself. Tomorrow would be another day and the next and the next. They had each other, and that has always been enough. Jordan fell into a dreamless sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
~Ok, this was the original story was going to end ...well sort of...I changed the ending slightly to give me a tangible reason to bring Woody back (One of MadamBeth's...'wouldn't it be nice' moments). The second half of the story is basically a sequel... I debated on posting it as such but decided to tag it on. It's a little lighter than the first half (and I have to admit a little OOC, but hey I took in consideration a few life changing events...lol) ...if you should decide to hang on for the rest of the ride I hope you enjoy. 


	12. Tucker

Virginia...Five Years Later~  

The sun was shining brightly on the main street of Hogan's Alley, the FBI's city mock up at Quantico.  Rookie and veteran agents either lived or died on those hallow streets.  Today they were bringing down and a bank robber during rush hour.   A young recruit ready for action looked around the crowd for anyone who fit the profile.  Baggy clothes shifty eyes.  Picking his way through the crowd, he watched every face. Suddenly out of the corner of his eye he saw someone break away.  He pursued on foot radioing his direction to his team.  Dodging through he crowds he came face to face with the suspect in an alley behind a Chinese take out.

"Freeze" 

His voice almost cracked with the adrenaline running through his system.  

"FBI!  Put you hands up!"

The suspect reached inside his jacket.  The recruit fired his weapon.  The suspect went down his coat opened, revealing the twenty-two strapped to his side.   For a moment everything stopped.

"Ah shit.  Not again.  I hate it when they run two sims at the same local."

The young agent turned around to see one of his instructors walking down the alley. The instructor put out his hand to take the young man's weapon. 

"Congratulations slick, you just took down this week's 'Iceman"..."

"Who?" the recruit squeaked still frozen.

"Richard Kuklinski," the 'dead' suspect said, "an enforcer for the New York mob a few years back. Read your textbook."

"......Oh."

The instructor let out a long sigh and keyed his radio. 

"Which one of you yahoos double booked this damn flight?"

He held out his hand to help up the 'suspect' off the ground.  He examined the bright red paint splotch on the man's chest.  The kid got in a good shot.  He took down this particular suspect very efficiently.  He was mildly impressed.

_"Sorry Mac, we had to run a couple of drills this morning.  Oh yeah, Tucker has your bank robber cornered over by the post office."_

Mac had to smile.  Tucker had to be pissed he got the wrong suspect. He hated doing these training ops as it was.   He wouldn't be surprised if he finds out that Tucker blow the balls off the rookie's bank robber just out of spite.

Less then an hour later Mac found Tucker the small cubicle in The Investigative Training Unit office he had been assigned shortly after arriving in Quantico three years prior.

"I heard you took my bank robber out with two slugs to the knees."

"He was pulling away.  I'm getting to old for this crap."

"Shit Tucker, your at your prime. What are you thirty; thirty-five max?  Hell, I couldn't have out run you when I was twenty. 

Tucker only chuckled.

"You were never that young Mac.  You were born with a receding hairline and hemorrhoids the size of Montana."

Mac laughed out loud.  Tucker never gave a straight answer unless he had to.  But he liked him.

When Tucker came to them three years ago he was a man on a mission.  He joined the agency with a vendetta mentality against organized crime.  Mac had seen this before. A recruit comes in with some romantic idea of changing the wrongs of the world single handedly. Tucker seemed to have fit that bill to a tee.  Usually, these superhero wannabes burn themselves out with in the first year.  Tucker was the exception to the rule.

 Mac had always kept an eye on Tucker since he was a rookie. He always stuck out. He was a decade older than the average college recruit.  On top of that he was a true enigma. Rumors ran the gambit about him. There was even one that said the angry scar in his right forearm was from disarming a Miami wise guy.  Tucker never discredited any of the stories. 

Tucker graduated the top of his recruit training class.  After the ceremony, it took emptying a bottle of Black Jack for Mac to find out what made him so determined to take on organized crime.  A local operator in New England took away everything, his career as a cop, his family and friends; even his very existence, through time in the witness protection program, for a few years.  Mac felt for him. It must have been hard to come back to the world of the living. He couldn't help but wonder if that was why Tucker chose to bury himself behind a desk instead of being out in the field where he belonged.  

"Well, I can tell you, your hit man was taken out quite nicely. Although, I thought the kid was going to shit his pants when he saw that Smith and Weston under the coat instead of bank notes." 

Tucker leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach.

"Good huh? Should I be looking for a new job?"

"Don't ask me, ask your boss.  Speaking of which, he sent me an email the other day.  I understand by the end of the week we don't get to call you Tucker anymore."

"It's not that big of a deal.  You were the only one who didn't change the 'T' when talking about me anyway." 

Mac laughed out loud.  It was true.  Around the office, Tucker was not known for his endearing charm.

"You did it.  You fought to get your name back and you won. It's going to take awhile to remember to call you Hoyt.  Martin was bad enough for a first name but 'Woody'?  That just sounds like a bad pun."  

Tucker looked down at the hands folded on his stomach.

"My name's all I got Mac. It's all I got left."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   

Jordan finished up the last of her paperwork for the day.  After pulling a double last night she was ready for some sleep.  She hoped her tornado of a roommate didn't have other ideas. 

Grabbing her bag she walked out to the elevator. Garret's office was dark already.  He had been leaving early on Fridays for a month now.  Good for him, Jordan thought to herself.  He had been preoccupied getting his new weekend house in the Berks winterized before his wife came home from a case in Indiana.  Jordan would never admit to liking her, but Renee Walcott seemed to be good for Garret.  Their on again off again relationship lasted through Renee setting up in private practice after her last term in office as District Attorney. Six months of marriage there had been no blood shed.  Jordan took it as a good sign.

She was about to push the down button when the elevator doors opened.  Inside was an irritated Eddie Winslow holding a strangely subdued, Master John Fitzgerald Maxwell Cavanaugh.

"What happened?"

At the sound of his mother's voice Jack, as everyone called him, let out a pathetic cry and held his arms out as if Eddie were ready to kill him.  By the look on Eddie's face Jordan began to wonder if the kid had a point.

"He got lost and this time he went into your escape plan."

Jordan lifted her son out of Eddie's arms.  His cry turned in to a whimper ad he buried his face in her shoulder. 

"He took off again?"

Eddie explained that Jack and Mrs. Granger, his nanny, were walking to the store.  Jack wondered ahead as usual he became disoriented when a group of teenagers walked between the two of them.  Before Mrs. Granger knew it Jack was gone. 

Jordan didn't need to hear the rest of the story.   From the second Jack was mobile he was on the go.  He never walked when he could run.  Mixed with healthy dose of early street smarts and it sometimes didn't add up too well.    

At an early age Jordan taught Jack to run if he ever was separated from the person he was with and felt threatened.  He was to run hard and fast finding a safe place, preferably a very public place, where he would get whomever he could find to call only Eddie's direct line to come and get him.  

The fear of kidnapping was very real for Jordan.  From the moment she found out she was pregnant with Jack she was terrified.  At the time Jack's father had a price on his head.  Even Blackie's veiled assurance of Woody's safety never reassured Jordan.  

Out of desperation, and some sage advice from a confidant, Jordan asked Eddie Winslow to pose as her baby's father.  For nine months Eddie was the devoted father–to–be. Even after Jack was born Eddie appeared to the world as proud papa.  

By the time Jack was a year old it became evident to the rest of Jordan's inner circle that Eddie was not Jack's biological father.  That knowledge was kept with only a handful of people.  But the older he got, the more obvious it became.  

When Jack was three, the threats to his safety seemed to have died along with the death of Kevin Cahill a year prior.  She even took the step to introduced Jack to his paternal grandparents.  But Jordan never felt one hundred percent sure. Stranger danger was a very real thing in Jack's life. 

"Mrs. Granger went home to take an aspirin."

Eddie voice brought Jordan back to the present. Jordan knew without a doubt Jack got an earful from both Mrs. Granger and Eddie.  By the sight tremors that ran though his body she thought he probably scared himself as badly. 

"I'll call her later.  Thanks Eddie."

"So what's it going to be Mom?"

Jordan focused on her son, who had loosened his grip on her.   

"Well dude, you took off on Mrs. Granger again.  You gave her another grey hair or two and put poor Eddie in panic mode.  What do you have to say for yourself?"

Jack only looked at collar around his mother's neck. 

"Pleading the fifth I see.  Lieutenant Winslow have you questioned the victim, Mrs. Granger and have come to the conclusion that the suspect in question is guilty of the crime of inappropriate hyperactivity."

"Yes ma'am"

 Eddie was relieved to see some of tension leave Jack's body. 

"You sound like Miss Renee, Mama." Jack said with a watery smile.

Eddie bit back a smile.  Renee Walcott may not be one of Jordan's favorite people but Jack adored her and the feeling was very mutual. 

"Yes, be that as it may.  I you are sentenced to one week probation which will include no TV and bathtub toys."   

"Is one week forever?"

 "To a four year old.... yes."  Eddie said rubbing the top of Jack's head. 

"Will I miss my hockey game?"  Jack asked with big eyes.

Jordan set him down and counted the days of the week out on her fingers.  Jack let out a sigh of relief when he realized that the Boston College hockey game Peter was taking him to was another eight days away.

"Phew, I was afraid he was gonna have to take a girl." 

The word 'girl' came out of Jack's mouth like it was a bad word.  Jack discovered hockey when he was spending the evening with Peter a few weeks ago and Peter promised he'd take him to a BC game.  Jack agreed only if he didn't bring along one of his girlfriends. Peter whole heartedly agreed.  He discovered early on that Jack was very useful in attracting women.  

"Ah, the sound of criminal remorse..."  Eddie said shaking his head.  "You want to grab something to eat?"

"No thanks Eddie.  It late; besides we are on probation."

"Mama?!" Jack whined.

Eddie echoed Jack's sediment and picked him up in his arms. 

"Don't do the crime if....."

"...You can't do the time."  Jack finished.  

"You guys watch way to much TV when you're together." Jordan laughed.

"I want to see Nigel."  Jack said pulling out of Eddie's arms.

"Sorry pal, part of you sentence is no visitation rights."

Jack rolled his eyes in a mirror image of his mother.     

Eddie walked them out to their vehicle.  Once Jack was strapped in to the back, Eddie shut the door to be able to get a moment of privacy with his mother.      

"When I picked him up at that Starbuck's I didn't know whether kill him or hug him."

"I wish you would have called me."

"As soon as I answered the phone Mrs. Granger had found him.  I got him on the line he was scared but safe.  I didn't want to upset you."    

Jordan understood... sort of.  She was Jack's mother.  He was her responsibility, but to the rest of the world Eddie was, for all intensive purpose, Jack's father.   Eddie felt a sense of responsibility also.

"I owe you Winslow."

"I'll add it to my tab."

With a tap to Jack's window and a wave Eddie walked over to his car and drove off.  Jordan thought it was a shame that Eddie never found someone and had children of his own. He was a wonderful father.  Eddie offered to marry her, a number of times, but she always turned him down.  She had to smile remembering the look of relief that would cross his face every time she said no. 

 Jordan hopped behind the steering wheel and turned to look at Jack who had found his stash of action figures in the rear pocket. She mentally took an inventory of her kitchen.    

"So, is it fish sticks or fish sticks tonight?"

"Pizza."

"Sounds good to me."


	13. It's Nothing Personal

Agent Woody Hoyt finished off the last drag of his cold coffee throwing the paper cup in the trash can next to his desk. He still couldn't get the taste of that stale cigar out of his mouth. Today it was official. He had his name back. His co-workers decided it was close enough to a new birth to warrant a congratulatory cigar.  
  
Woody looked down at his new security badge. He would have sworn it still felt warm from the laminating machine. His name stared back at him. His real name.  
  
Everything had been taken away from him five years, two months, six days, five hours he looked at his watch, and forty three minutes ago. He should be thankful he at least got his name back. Most people who enter the witness protection program go for the rest of their lives never being able to acknowledge their past. He was one of the lucky ones.  
  
When he left Boston he ended up in a truck stop town outside of Boise. He was given a new identity, a new past and was told to reinvent himself. He did in the bottom of a whiskey bottle for the first year. He carries a constant reminder of that time with the ragged scar that ran from his wrist to his elbow.  
  
He was at his usual stool in a local roadhouse when a fight broke out between a husband and a wife. He couldn't sit still and watch the much larger man mop up the floor with the smaller woman. He took a broken beer bottle in his arm for his trouble. If he wasn't so drunk he may have been able to anticipate the wife's desperate move. After one hundred stitches he decided to stop wallowing in self pity.  
  
He cleaned up his act and decided to move on with his so called life. He took a job in construction even though it was enough to make his teeth ache. But, he stuck with it day in, day out. Around once a week he would be contacted by his Uncle Sam. A member of Deputy Bernard's team would make sure everything was going alright.  
  
Two years into his exile his weekly check-in turned into a visit from Bernard himself. Bernard had come to tell him that Cahill was died. His organization had been absorbed. The drama of the past few years was now just a foot note in history. The government didn't see the necessity of providing unneeded protection.  
  
He was free to go. It was all he could do not to hop the first plane to Boston. He decided he needed to get his life in order first before he made any rash moves. He thought about what he wanted to do. He was a cop. Unfortunately, the idea of trying to get back on with the Boston PD left a bitter taste in his mouth. He asked Bernard to help him to apply to the FBI Academy. He wanted to be where he had the clout to make a difference in the fight against the mob.  
  
Martin Tucker enrolled and was accepted as a favor to the US Marshal's Office. But by the end of his initial training period Tucker proved to be good at what he did. A bit unorthodox, but good.  
  
He was offered a free ticket to his choice of billeting. The night before he was to make his choice he made a discreet phone call to an acquaintance who worked dispatch at the Boston police department. After his conversation he knew Boston was the last place he would be needed.  
  
She had moved on. She broke her own rule and was with yet another cop, an old friend of the family, a good man, and they had started a family. Martin Tucker would just be a stranger. He was a stranger to even his own self. Tucker decided to stay lost to his family and friends. He took an assignment right there in Quantico.  
  
Martin Tucker had been given a second chance at life. He decided he was going to truly make a difference. It was a pipe dream, of course. But at the time it was all he had.  
  
Now, he had his name back. It was a small step. He picked up his phone and punched the area code for Wisconsin and quickly placed the phone back on the cradle. It was a scene that has played out a number of times in the last five years. He always hung before the phone could ring twice.  
  
He tried to imagine what he would say to them. 'Hi it's me. I thought I'd give you call. I've been able to call for the last three years, but with setting up a new career and all, I never seemed to have the time.'  
  
A decidedly rude sound came from his mouth.  
  
"Ten minutes into being a new man and he's bent out of shape already."  
  
Hoyt looked up to see his boss peering over top of the ash grey divider that formed one of the walls of his cubicle.  
  
"I need to see you in my office right now."  
  
With one last look at the phone Hoyt stood and followed his boss into one of the few four walled rooms on the floor.  
  
"Sit down."  
  
Hoyt took a seat and his boss handed him a service jacket folder. He noticed it was his own.  
  
"If this is about shooting Mac's rookie's guy last week, I'm sorry. The sim was a bust after the asshole tried to flag down the bus on my corner. Our mark's target was on there."  
  
"No, no that's not it. Although I'm still not happy you didn't let the guy go when you realized he wasn't your perp. These are you're walking papers. You're being reassigned out of the unit."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You've been holding down real estate long enough around here. We need you out in a field office."  
  
"A field office? What the hell am I suppose to do at a field office."  
  
"Your job."  
  
Hoyt opened up the sealed envelope that sat on top of his service record. He read the enclosed paper carefully and then read it again before he threw it on his boss's desk.  
  
"This is impossible. I'm sorry, I can't do it."  
  
"What do you mean you can't do it?"  
  
"Chief, this paper says Boston. You know I'm persona non grotta there."  
  
"That was years ago. If they thought you was still a target you would still be watching for UFO's out in the desert someplace instead of sitting in my office smelling like a cheap cigar."  
  
"Why Boston?"  
  
"You know the ropes, you know the players. Hell, since you've been here you have become almost a guru on the underbelly of South Boston."  
  
"That was personal."  
  
"Personal or not they requested you and you're the best man for the job. They needed someone yesterday. You spin up time will be minimal. Sorry man. You're going."  
  
"You sure you and Mac didn't dream this up to get back at me for taking down the rookie's mark?"  
  
By the look on his boss's face Hoyt realized this was not a bad joke.  
  
"Shit"  
  
"Get over it Hoyt. Boston is a big town. Five years is a long time. You're bridges were burned for you. Since you left there's been a new police chief, a new head of homicide, a new DA....."  
  
Hoyt opened his mouth to argue and his boss put up his hand to stop him.  
  
"I've heard enough. You report in a week. I suggest you go home and start packing."  
  
Hoyt walked out of the office and slammed the door. He heard his name from purgatory muttered behind the closed door and the old man changed the 'T' again.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Jordan looked up from the autopsy table to see Garret standing in front of her.  
  
"I just thought I'd let you know I sent over that report to the DA's office on the John Doe you had this morning. Apparently the feds concur with your findings. They want to talk to you and the detective in change to see if this guy is that missing businessman from Chicago."  
  
"His hands and head were gone. They're going to have to wait for DNA to get a definitive match. Tell them to find me the rest of the body and I may be able to speed things up."  
  
"Yeah, well you can tell them yourself. They were going to send a guy over later but I told them you'd swing by the field office on your way home. It's Friday and I knew Jack's nanny is taking off this weekend. There is no reason why you should have to wait around here for some guy to show up."  
  
"Mrs. Granger will appreciate that." Jordan said sarcastically.  
  
"Mrs. Granger deserves a service medal and combat pay."  
  
"Jack's not that bad."  
  
"I'm talking about you."  
  
Garret was about to turn to leave.  
  
"Oh by the way, before you go stop by my office. Renee brought back something for Jack from Indiana."  
  
"She didn't have to."  
  
"The woman can't even walk past a hardware store without seeing if there is something in there to spoil that kid. You're going to have to watch him when he gets older. He's too much like Hoyt...."  
  
Jordan looked quickly down at the body in front of her.  
  
"I'm sorry Jordan."  
  
She let out a short laugh and looked back up at her boss.  
  
"Hey, it's alright, you can say his name in front of me. He's been gone for half a decade. I think we've all moved on."  
  
Garret thought back to the rocky road that was his life after his role in faking Hoyt's death. It took months for Jordan to forgive him. Trusting him came even later. The only thing good that came out of that time was Jack.  
  
"You're right...... She also wanted to ask if guys would like to come over for dinner sometime next week. She's got a light work load and wants to take Jack down to the pond and feed the ducks before it starts getting too cold."  
  
Jordan had to smile at that. Renee, Jack and ducks all in the same sentence meant in most likelihood that Garret would be doing all the cooking and Jordan would be cleaning up. It wouldn't be so bad. She wanted to hear about the progress on the weekend house. She hadn't been up there since the masonry had been done on the fireplace.  
  
"Sounds great just tell me what day."  
  
"I'll let you know. I told them you'd meet with an Agent Mayer in an hour."  
  
Jordan rolled her eyes. Mrs. Granger was going to have plenty enough time to beat the rush hour traffic while she would barely have enough time to grab a shower before she left the building.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Jordan was running late when she stopped at the front desk at One Center Plaza. Jordan had spent countless hours there demanding a status on the car bombing and could have survived very nicely never having had come back. She wondered if Agent Tillman still worked there.  
  
Jordan was signed in and waved through a metal detector. She was met by an Agent Mayer whom she had met earlier in the day at the scene where the body of the John Doe was found in a dumpster behind a motel.  
  
"Dr. Cavanaugh. Thank you for stopping by. Can I get you something to drink coffee or a soda perhaps?"  
  
Jordan looked at the leggy blonde and decided Agent Mayer must have gone into the wrong career field. If it weren't for the SIG Sauer hanging from her waist Jordan would have sworn she was Flight Stewardess Barbie.  
  
"No thank you, I'm fine."  
  
After an elevator ride, they walked down a hallway which Jordan assumed led to a conference room of some type. Jordan turned her face toward a closed office door where a series of grunts and the sounds of moving furniture were punctuated by a string of words that made her eyebrows shoot up.  
  
"I'm sorry, that's the new guy. He just got here this morning, He wasn't happy with the way his office was set up. I remember him from Quantico; hot, but a real asshole. Between you and me, I don't think he's looking forward to a New England winter."  
  
Mayer lead Jordan into a small meeting room which was lined with tack boards covered with pictures and information from the case of the missing man from Chicago along with everything they had from that morning. Jordan was looking at the pictures taken at the scene when there was a commotion at the door.  
  
"Mayer, you know where I can find a new cord for my PC? This one's a piece of ........damn."  
  
Jordan felt the floor open up under her feet when she heard the voice behind her. She put a hand to her mouth and didn't dare turn around. It had to be just a figment of her imagination.  
  
"Jordan?"  
  
Jordan turned around and looked into her son's eyes. Only they were older and colder then she remembered. She quickly regrouped and ran her suddenly damp hands down her pant legs.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?"  
  
Woody looked away for a second and smiled. At first glance he thought she had changed. She was somehow, softer. Then she opened her mouth and he realized five years hadn't changed her a bit. He wondered if the back of her knees were still ticklish.  
  
"The dark side of the moon got a little boring and I wanted to see a Patriots game live."  
  
"You've changed"  
  
"You haven't."  
  
He fought the image of her and Winslow together that flashed through his mind.  
  
Mayer was watching them like the final match at Wimbledon. She couldn't hold her curiosity any longer.  
  
"You know each other?"  
  
"Use to, a long time ago." Woody said almost to himself.  
  
Jordan regained the feeling back in her feet and decided it was time to make a hasty exit. She looked at her watch.  
  
"Ah, I have an appointment I have to get to. It completely slipped my mind. Agent Mayer would it be too much of a problem if you stopped by my office say first thing tomorrow. Thanks."  
  
Jordan quickly made her way out of the room. She tried to get to the hallway, but not before Woody reached out to grab her arm.  
  
"I'm sorry Jordan. I wasn't planning this."  
  
Jordan held her breath and smoothly extricated herself from his hand. She wanted to ask if he was sorry he was back or if he was sorry he ran in to her.  
  
Instead she just turned and, as gracefully as possible, made her way out of the building. She couldn't remember if she exhaled until she opened the lobby door and felt the crisp late autumn breeze in her hair.  
  
Woody stood in the hallway and watched her retreating figure. He could hear Mayer's voice asking what was going on. He walked back to his office and shut the door. A few seconds later the loud crash brought people out of their own offices. Woody opened his door and calmly walked out, shutting the door behind him.  
  
"Don't worry about that cord Mayer; I'll pick one up when I go buy a new monitor."  
  
Straightening his tie he walked down the hallway to his new boss's office. 


	14. Chi

Hoyt knocked once and strode into his boss's office.  
  
"This isn't going to work. Get me out of here."  
  
Special Agent Tillman kicked his feet up on the corner of his desk.  
  
"The feng shui of your office is not working out?"  
  
"Yeah. My chi isn't finding balance"  
  
"I hear Anchorage is open."  
  
Woody pointed his thumb at the laptop sitting on the desk.  
  
"Make it happen."  
  
"I was only joking."  
  
"I'm not."  
  
"Hoyt, you lived through the limbo of witness protection and came back to talk about it. I would say your chi is just fine."  
  
Tillman could almost feel the itch in Hoyt's fingers to show him what he thought of his sense of humor. Tillman sat up and put his elbows on his desk and motioned Woody to take a seat.  
  
"What's up?"  
  
"I always thought that an investigating agent worked out in the field. Since when does the M.E.'s office have to make a house call?"  
  
"Protocol! You have a burr up your ass because of protocol."  
  
"Humor me."  
  
"I don't have to put up with this from you, you know."  
  
"Then you shouldn't have asked for me to be transferred here."  
  
Tillman kicked back again and studied his newest subordinate. He knew it was going to be awkward when he requested Hoyt to be assigned to his office.  
  
Tillman's predecessor was the authority on the mobs of the northeast. When he quit it left a hole in the collective brain trust. In his short time with the Bureau, Hoyt had built himself quite a reputation as being good at his job. Tillman called him in a few times to consult in the previous year. He didn't think Hoyt would want to bolt at the first sign of his old life.  
  
"That wasn't my call. Mayer was heading over to the morgue herself, but when I made the courtesy call to the CME he said something about a scheduling issue. He told me he would send the M.E. on the case over here."  
  
"And nobody thought to give me a heads up?"  
  
"Hoyt, you are damn lucky my wife came home from work early last night and I'm in a good mood. I'll spell this out to you as simply as possible. I requested you at this office because I wanted you on my team. But, I won't put up with you're prima donna attitude. You are a professional and you will conduct yourself as such. I will give you until Monday morning to get your shit in gear or by Tuesday evening you will be hanging sheetrock in Idaho again. Do I make my self clear?"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
Woody stood up and grabbed the doorknob to make as quick exit. Tillman's words stopped him.  
  
"Woody, I frankly don't know how I would feel if I where in your shoes. Hell, I'm largely responsible for everything you've been through. Take the next couple of days. Look up some old friends, check out you old stomping grounds, go get drunk, reconnect and come back here Monday ready to go to work."  
  
Woody opened the door.  
  
"Oh, by the way, I'm docking your pay for whatever I heard hit the wall. I'll leave up to you to patch the drywall."  
  
Tillman waited until Hoyt was gone before he picked up the phone he dialed an internal extension.  
  
"Mayer, just exactly who did stiff storage send over?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Jordan didn't remember driving home. She just thought she just had stepped into the 'Twilight Zone'.  
  
The shock was wearing off by the time she had finished cleaning up after dinner. Still damp from his bath, Jack was playing blessedly quiet in his playroom.  
  
Right before Jack's first birthday, Jordan's building went co-op. With Max's help she bought her place and the smaller unit next door. It took almost a year, but between the two of them, they torn down the common wall and remodeled the larger area to make room for her and the baby. Jack's playroom was in the alcove were Jordan's bed once stood.  
  
Jordan's home was her haven, even after everything that has happened in it. She relished in the strength it gave her.  
  
Jordan desperately needed to tap that strength to relax and think about what she was going to do. She decided to pour herself a glass of wine and curl up on the couch. She almost dropped the bottle when she heard a soft knock on the door.  
  
Jordan was relieved when she saw Eddie standing on the other side on the door. Jack squealed with delight when he walked in the room.  
  
"Eddie!"  
  
"Hey little man!"  
  
Eddie smoothed the cowlick on the back of Jack's head when he looked up at him. Part of Eddie wished that Jordan would have taken him up on his offer of marriage just so that he could come home every night to Jack's sunny face.  
  
"I was just going to pour myself some. You want to join me?" Jordan said holding up the wine bottle.  
  
Eddie gave her a nod and Jack took back off to squeeze a few last minutes with his toys before he would be banished to his bedroom for the night.  
  
Jordan set the wine glass on the kitchen counter before Eddie.  
  
"I thought you had a date with Anastasia tonight?"  
  
"Her name is Tatiana, Jordan and yes, I'm meeting her in an hour."  
  
"Tatiana, Texarkana, I don't think it makes much difference. You're not with her for her stimulating conversation."  
  
"If I wanted only that I could stay here with you."  
  
"Touché"  
  
"Her English is a little weak but you have to remember she's in the States on a fellowship at the Conservatory. She holds a masters in fine arts, I've seen her degrees."  
  
"Oh, I just bet you have."  
  
"If you would just marry me I'd forget all about her."  
  
Jordan downed her wine in one gulp.  
  
"What if I took you up on your offer this time?"  
  
"Should I be thinking about taking my good suit to the cleaners?"  
  
Jordan yelled out to Jack and told him to get ready for bed.  
  
"Jordan, take care of him. Tatiana can start without me. I can tell by the look on your face we need to talk."  
  
A few minutes later, Jordan watched as Jack arranged his pillow and blankets just so. The look of determination on his face set her teeth on edge. Max once joked that Jordan was only the vessel for Woody's clone, that he was the carbon copy of his father.  
  
Jack giggled as he looked up at her ready for his good night kiss.  
  
Jordan wrapped her arms around his little body. He pulled away and she looked at him. Max was wrong, she thought, Jack wasn't Woody's carbon copy. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed was just like his Grandpa's and the way his lips curled right before he laughed was pure Jordan.  
  
"Mama, why are you crying?"  
  
Jordan self-consciously wiped her face. Just the night before, she had tucked her son in bed and spent the rest of her evening with three loads of laundry lamenting the state of her sex life, or lack of it. Now she was trying to figure out how to tell her baby boy that his dead father was alive and well and working in an office building, only fifteen minutes away.  
  
Jordan made a production out of pulling the blankets around Jack's shoulders.  
  
"Honey, these are happy tears. I have to go into work for a few minutes tomorrow and then we get to spend the whole weekend together; just the two of us."  
  
Jack looked at her half believing.  
  
"Just go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."  
  
"I love you, Mama."  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
"Do you love Gaylord?"  
  
Jack held up his favorite stuffed animal. Its long ears flapped in the air as he shook it back and forth. Jordan had to smile.  
  
"Yes, I love Gaylord."  
  
Jordan blew him a kiss and closed his door behind her as she left.  
  
Eddie was sitting at the kitchen counter right where she left him. She took a seat next to him and he refilled their glasses.  
  
"Spill it Cavanaugh."  
  
Jordan bounced the words around in her head. Nothing seemed to make sense, so she just jumped into it. Her voice dropped to a whisper.  
  
"He's back."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Woody."  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
"Shhh. I don't want Jack to hear this."  
  
Eddie leaned in closer to her.  
  
"What do you mean he's back? You saw him. Where?"  
  
"Believe it or not at Central Casting."  
  
"The FBI field office! Why were you at the field office?"  
  
"It's a long story. All that matters is he's back."  
  
"I wonder why the hell they brought him here."  
  
In Jordan's mind's eye she remembered seeing him standing there in conference room doorway. He looked right at home with his old skin.  
  
"I have a feeling he came back by himself."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"The side arm, badge and G-man arrogance were all a dead give away."  
  
Eddie face was blank with disbelief and shock.  
  
"I've been trying to figure it out all evening. The only thing I can think of is that when things cooled off around here they took him out of the program."  
  
"It makes sense Cahill's origination has been disbanded for awhile now. How long do you think he's been in town?"  
  
"Ironically, he just got here this morning."  
  
Eddie understood Jordan's discomfort. Hoyt has a child he never knew existed sleeping in the other room. What about Jack? They have always told him that his father died in the line of duty.  
  
"You'll have to tell Jack."  
  
"Not right now."  
  
Jordan stood up and began to pace.  
  
"Jordan, you knew you were going to have to tell him sooner or later. Besides, the city's not THAT big. Hoyt's going to figure it out. He's not stupid. "  
  
"I was planning telling Jack sometime after he had his OWN kids. As far as Woody goes....Eddie, what am I going to do?"  
  
"We'll think of something. What was Hoyt's reaction when he saw you?"  
  
"He didn't look happy. In fact he didn't look happy at all. He's changed Eddie."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I don't know. But I do know I don't want Jack anywhere near him until I know what's going on."  
  
"You know I'm in your corner."  
  
Jordan stopped pacing and gave Eddie a soft smile.  
  
"How do feel about all this, Jordan?"  
  
She looked like she was going to say something and then stopped. Eddie thought she wasn't going to get a response until she spoke.  
  
"I don't know. I really don't know."  
  
Eddie's heart went out to her. For years Jordan played cat and mouse games with Hoyt's affections. It took his faked death for her to acknowledge her feelings for him and then it took over a year for her to get over them, if she ever really did.  
  
"I'm going to call Tatiana and cancel."  
  
Eddie reached for his cell and Jordan stopped him.  
  
"No, she probably wouldn't understand a word you were saying anyway. Go, at least one of us can have a good evening."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
Jordan pushed him out the door.  
  
"You know you can call me anytime Jordan and I'll be right over."  
  
"I'll remember that later on tonight." She said with a smirk.  
  
Eddie chuckled and walked to the elevator. Jordan was still watching him as he gave her a wave as the doors shut.  
  
Thirty minutes later Jordan was no where near deciding on how to handle Woody's return when she heard a knock at the door. Eddie's date must have ended before it began and he was in need of some stimulating conversation. Jordan hoped he could help her figure out what to do. She was smiling when she answered the door.  
  
"What did Nikita finish without you .....?"  
  
"Nikita?"  
  
For the second time in one day Jordan felt her knees buckle.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" 


	15. Out of Storage

Woody stood there uncomfortably and couldn't help but remember that Jordan had used the exact same sediment when she saw him earlier in the day.  
  
"You really need to work on your welcome home speeches Jordan. No matter what you may have heard; 'What to hell are you doing here?' was not the name they stuck on me when I left here."  
  
Jordan fought the urge to wrap her hands around his neck or wrap her arms around it. Instead she gripped the door frame tighter.  
  
"I don't even know what to call you."  
  
For years he went to sleep every night, thinking about the way her breath caught in the back of her throat right before she came and then she exhaled his name, making it sound like the most intimate word in the world. He mouth was suddenly full of rocks.  
  
"Woody" he choked out.  
  
"But I thought they gave you a new one?"  
  
Woody fumbled in his jacket pocket.  
  
"They did and I changed it back. You want to see my ID?"  
  
Jordan put up a hand as if to say that it wasn't necessary.  
  
"Woody."  
  
The name sounded almost foreign to Jordan. She kept her hand on the door frame, making no effort to invite him in. An awkward silence followed. Woody rocked back and forth on his feet wondering why he was even there in the first place.  
  
When he left the office he drove aimlessly around the city. Woody decided Tillman had a point. He was being a jerk. When he initially hired on at the Bureau he planned to eventually make his way back to his adopted hometown. He was sidetracked. Now he was back and needed to make the best of a difficult situation.  
  
He decided to try to mend some fences. The first step led him to Pearl Street. He almost hit a parked car when he saw Eddie Winslow walking out of the building holding his car keys. Woody circled around the block and pulled into the parking spot that had just been vacated by a silver sedan that he assumed was Winslow's.  
  
Woody sat in his car and debated on the wisdom of being there. Jordan deserved an explanation. When he decided to stay in Virginia he made an effort to move on with his life and forget Boston, something always held him back, leaving him in as much limbo as he was in Idaho. He justified getting out of his car and riding the elevator to the third floor by thinking that if he cleared the air with her he would be able to truly put everything behind him and begin anew.  
  
"What ARE you doing here?"  
  
"I needed to see you."  
  
Jordan couldn't fight the tension and confusion that had been building in her since she first saw him standing there in the conference room door. She questioned the reason he never tried to connect her when it was apparent he had been out of the program for awhile. Jordan also felt cornered by the emotions she thought she had long since buried. She lashed out.  
  
"And you thought you could just pick up were we left of? I'm sorry, but no. It's great that you got your name back.....that's great that you could...could come back to Boston....but ....there are.....five years....that you just can't sign on a dotted line and take out of storage....you had to leave and that sucked.....but life went on here without you...."  
  
Woody cringed Jordan was not going to make this easy. He never thought she would. Too much time had past and they were strangers. That point was painfully obvious to him.  
  
"Damn it Jordan, I just came by to say hello! I didn't come here for...for...that...I just wanted to..."  
  
He wanted to wrap her in his arms and bury his face in her sweet smelling hair. Instead, he looked at his feet willing them to just turn, walk away and never look back.  
  
"I'm sorry it's too late. You should leave."  
  
"I should have just left when I saw Winslow leaving. I should have waited until I knew he was home."  
  
"What!? Were you staking out the building? How did you know I was still here?"  
  
"I looked it up."  
  
Jordan couldn't hide the shrill in her voice.  
  
"Of course, you're working for the government now. You have access to all kinds of information. Tell me, what all do my files have to say?"  
  
Woody ran an agitated hand through his hair. All he only wanted to talk to her and put some of his own demons to rest. Yes, he had looked her up, it had been years. He figured she would have moved because of Winslow and the child.  
  
"Christ Jordan, you know me, it's not like that!"  
  
Jordan looked him up and down taking note of the subtle changes she noticed before. There was a new edginess about him that made her very uncomfortable.  
  
"I don't know who the hell you are anymore."  
  
"Mama?"  
  
Jordan turned to look at Jack's frightened face. He was standing in the room behind her, he's little body poised to run. Woody was taken back by the sight of Winslow's child. A boy; he couldn't help but by a little envious. Even in the dim light Woody could tell that the color and texture of his hair matched his mother's perfectly. He was bigger than he thought he'd be. Tall like Winslow. But what he couldn't get over were the electric blue eyes that seemed too big for his face. For the life of him, Woody couldn't remember if Winslow had blue eyes or not. He could never forget that Jordan's were color of honey and seemed to melt when she smiled.  
  
Jordan left her sentry at the door and went to her son pulling him to her side, murmuring incoherent smoothing words to him. Jack's eyes never left the stranger standing at the door. Woody realized their raised voices must have frightened the boy. He felt guilty. He took a few steps forward and knelt down.  
  
"Hi, what's your name?"  
  
Jack looked up to his mother holding his arms up. She picked him up, leaving Woody on the floor alone. Jack wrapped his legs around his mother's waist and locked his toes together like a monkey. As Woody stood up he couldn't help but feel the child's pose looked vaguely familiar.  
  
Jordan took a deep breath. She didn't know what she was going to say.  
  
"Jack, this is ....this is.....Agent Hoyt. He used to work...with the police."  
  
Jordan held her breath as Jack and Woody continued to study each other. After a few seconds Jack turned to her.  
  
"Does an agent have a badge like Eddie?"  
  
Woody felt confused by such a young child referring to his father by his first name but he chose to ignore it. Woody cleared his throat and those blue eyes swung back over to his face.  
  
"You wanna see it? Your Mom didn't."  
  
Woody reached in his pocket and pulled out his badge and handed it to Jack. Jack studied the shield just as he studied Woody's face.  
  
"Is this for real? It doesn't look like Eddie's"  
  
For the first time all day Woody smiled.  
  
"Yep, I got it three years ago. I used to have one like your daddy's before you were even born."  
  
"My daddy had a badge like Eddie's and now he's dead."  
  
The statement lay heavy in the air between them. It didn't take long for Jordan to snap into action. She took the shield out of Jack's hand and gave it back to Woody.  
  
"I think you had better leave now."  
  
Woody could only nod and turned to leave. He heard the lock turn as the door shut behind him. Woody's head was swimming. Winslow wasn't Jack's father. There had been someone else; a dead cop. As he walked out of the building he stopped in his tracks. The fleeting memory of his brother Cal being carried around on her mother's hip with his legs wrapped around her and his feet locked. For years his mother use to call him 'monkey boy'. He brushed it off as a coincidence. He was too confused to think about it.  
  
Woody drove away realizing that some things never change. His heart was still in Jordan's hands, only this time someone else had staked claim to hers. 


	16. Gaylord

The next morning Jordan found herself in the morgue's break room nursing a cold cup of coffee. Jack sat next to her sharing a Twinkie with Gaylord. Jordan smiled. She had fed him worse for breakfast before. She made a mental note to put something that wasn't plastic in his mouth for lunch.  
  
The weekend staff were either busy at work or asleep at there desks, because nobody had walked through the doors since she had been sitting there. For that, Jordan was very thankful. She was in no mood for small talk.  
  
She checked her watch for the third time in as many minutes. Agent Mayer had left a message on Jordan's machine telling her what time she'd be stopping by. Jordan was early. But the walls of her apartment were closing in on her.  
  
Jordan heard the elevator doors open. She stood to meet Agent Mayer, but instead saw Nigel walking down the corridor. Jordan had called him asking if he would mind sitting with Jack while she talked with Mayer. It would have been easier to just drop Jack off at her father's, but she needed Nigel's smile.  
  
"Good morning, darling. Jack!"  
  
Nigel clapped his hands at he sight of Jack sticking his head around the corner of the break room door. Jack's smile was a mile wide as he ran down the hall launching himself in Nigel's arms. Nigel lifted Jack up and turned him upside down. Jack's t-shirt gathered around his armpits with his wiggles of delight. Jordan shook her head at Jack squeal when Nigel gave his bare belly a loud raspberry.  
  
"I worn you he just finished eating four slightly stale Twinkies about two minutes ago."  
  
Nigel's eyes got dramatically big as he righted Jack in his arms.  
  
"You won't do that to me, now would you mate?"  
  
Jack just giggled and shook his head. He wrapped his arms tightly around Nigel for a second and then squirmed out of his arms running back into the break room.  
  
Nigel sobered and walked over to Jordan taking in the circles under her eyes.  
  
"Thanks Nigel I owe you."  
  
"You know you can call me to help with Jack anytime. Is there something new with your mystery man in the crypt?"  
  
"No, the agent on the case just wants to get face to face."  
  
"I thought you left early yesterday to do that?"  
  
Jordan wrapped her arms around her waist and turned her head to look at Jack playing with a matchbox car in the break room table.  
  
"I had to cut the meeting short."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Jordan didn't hear him. She continued to watch Jack. Nigel turned a critical eye to Jack. The child appeared to be playing contently. He knew Jordan's nervousness was not due to something wrong with her son.  
  
Nigel had known Jordan for years. He could read her better then most. He could feel the tension roll off of her like a living thing. He laid a hand on her shoulder. Jordan looked up and saw the concern in his eyes. She was not surprised at the feel of tears on her cheeks. Nigel concern compounded.  
  
"I don't think this anything to do with the feebees pressing for a body's ID."  
  
Jordan knew she wouldn't be able to keep him in the dark long. She took a deep breath and told him everything. A myriad of emotions crossed his face as she talked.  
  
Nigel had held Jordan's hand while they waited for her positive pregnancy test. He was there rubbing her feet when work kept her on them too long. He walked the hospital corridors with her, feeling every contraction when Jack came screaming in the world. He was also there to hold her when he thought for sure her heart would never recover after Woody left.  
  
"My God."  
  
"And to top it off, Jack told him that his father's dead."  
  
"How did he react?"  
  
"I kicked him out before he could say anything."  
  
"Jordan, he would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to figure out that Jack's his son."  
  
"Jack's mine."  
  
"Irregardless, the man is Jack's father..."  
  
Jordan looked at her feet at Nigel's condescending tone. She opened her mouth to defend herself have the elevator doors opened.  
  
"Dr Cavanaugh, Good morning. It's a cool one isn't it? I think winter may come early....Hello, I'm Agent Mayer."  
  
Agent Mayer stepped out of the elevator and strode over to them. With her winning Miss California smile she stuck her hand out to Nigel.  
  
Nigel, Dr. Nigel Townsend, how do you do?"  
  
Nigel was taken back by her strong grip. Jordan had to bite her lip at the amusement in Nigel's eyes.  
  
"Ah Nig, could you take Jack now?"  
  
"Surely, love"  
  
Nigel opened the break room door. Jack came out staring up at Mayer.  
  
"Mate, how about you and I see what good computer games I have loaded?"  
  
Jack nodded but kept and eye on Mayer. She leaned over to greet him.  
  
"This is my son, Jack." Jordan said  
  
"He's beautiful. Hi Jack, my name's Candy."  
  
"Hi" Jack said looking at the badge clipped to her waistband.  
  
"Are you an agent too?"  
  
"Why, yes I am." Mayer laughed.  
  
"Um, yes, well, Agent Mayer if you follow me I'll take you to the body."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Woody looked out the window of his sixth floor hotel room and the light Saturday morning traffic crisscrossing the interchanges below him. He noted the traffic signal turning on to Concord remained red only fifteen seconds going north and south and was red for thirty seconds going east to west. He knew because he had timed them somewhere around three o'clock that morning. He looked down at his watch. It was time.  
  
Turning away, he tightened his tie and grabbed his jacket. Mayer was meeting Jordan at the morgue. He called Mayer and invited himself along. She was skeptical, but reluctantly agreed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Nigel leaned back on his chair in frustration as Jack soundly trumped him for the third time.  
  
"Not again! You've been practicing haven't you?"  
  
Jack giggled and grabbed Gaylord and jump from the stool he had been sitting on.  
  
"You think that's funny huh?"  
  
Jack took off as Nigel reached out to grab him. In a flash Jack was out the door.  
  
"Come back here you little bugger." Nigel laughed taking off in pursuit.  
  
Jack dodged in and out of doorways around the floor. His giggles echoed in the hallways.  
  
Jack was coming around the corner when the elevator doors opened. He stopped dead when he saw Woody step out. He jumped, dropping Gaylord. Jack turned to run when Nigel stepped around the corner.  
  
Nigel took one look at Woody and noticed the changes Jordan was talking about. The Woody he remembered was quick with a smile lighting the room with a child like exuberance that was a true oxymoron to his chosen line of work. Five years had taken that away, leaving in its place an iron-cold impression that reminded him of an old Steve McQueen movie.  
  
Nigel picked Jack up in his arms. "I heard you were back."  
  
"I see good news travel's fast. It's good to see you again Nigel. Hey, Jack."  
  
Jack's big eyes focused on the stuffed animal at Woody's feet. Nigel noticed it at the same time.  
  
"I've got it mate..."  
  
Nigel leaned down the same time as Woody. He was not quick enough to grab Jack's toy. Nigel could remember Jack coming home from his first trip to Wisconsin with Gaylord. After much soul searching and Max's urging Jordan took Jack to Kewanee to meet his paternal grandparents. Max convinced Jordan it wouldn't be fair to keep Jack from them when he was all they had left of their son.  
  
Woody's mother gave Jordan a box fill of pictures and remembrances of Woody's youth. Much to Jordan's discomfort Jack took to Gaylord from the moment his grandmother placed it in his hands.  
  
Woody slowly picked up the stuffed animal. The feel of the fur in his hands was more familiar then the hair on his head. Woody could remember an identical stuffed animal from his childhood. He called his toy Gaylord after one of his father's favorite baseball pitchers, Gaylord Perry.  
  
For a second he looked at the generic brown fur. He rubbed his hand over one floppy ear. Thirty years ago those floppy ears were the softest things in the world. This toy looked as loved as his old one was.  
  
"Here," he handed Jack the stuffed animal. "You got a good friend there, buddy."  
  
Jack reached out to take the toy from Woody's hand. Nigel watched as Woody studied Jack's face. The shape of his eyes, the slope of his nose.....  
  
"Gaylord's my best friend."  
  
Gaylord...Woody felt as if he had dropped into Alice's rabbit hole.  
  
It was one coincidence too many. He reached out to touch Jack's face only to have him flinch away. Woody dropped his hand. Nigel watched in alarm as Woody clenched his fists together.  
  
"Woody." He said in warning.  
  
Woody held the curse that was on the tip of his tongue. Nigel placed his hand on Jack's head.  
  
"Where is she, Nigel?"  
  
"She's busy right now. Mate, this is not the time or place."  
  
Woody walked around Nigel and headed toward the Crypt.  
  
"Woody, don't!"  
  
Woody was behind paying attention to Nigel. He pushed open the door to the Crypt with a resounding bang.  
  
"Why didn't you say something?"  
  
"Hoyt!" Mayer exclaimed turning around.  
  
"Mayer, if you don't mind could you give me a minute alone with Doctor Cavanaugh."  
  
Woody spit out every word. Mayer looked at Jordan. Jordan nodded to her and she left.  
  
"Answer me Jordan."  
  
Jordan pulled the sheet up over the body and pushed the drawer home. Pulling off her gloves she turned with her hands on her hips.  
  
"If your office can't communicate to each other about this case, that's not my problem."  
  
"This doesn't have a damn thing to do with any case."  
  
Jordan looked up at his face and saw the truth written there. He knew, some how he knew.  
  
"I was in Virginia when I first heard you were a mother. I couldn't quite picture it in my head. That was until yesterday. ....I couldn't sleep late night because I couldn't get the sight of you two together out of my mind. "  
  
Woody stopped and ran a shaky hand through his hair. When he noticed the tremor in his hand he laughed out loud. Jordan backed behind Emmy's desk.  
  
"You looked so natural. When I first saw him, I let myself fantasize for a moment that you were my family, not Winslow's. I was damn near floored when Jack said his father was dead. I paced the floor half the night with the crazy thought that I may be that dead cop. But I knew it couldn't be true, because you would have told me up front."  
  
"As far as Jack's concerned his father is dead."  
  
Woody stopped walking and braced his hands on top of Emmy's desk.  
  
"Surprise, surprise...Beyond popular belief, I'm not dead! Why didn't you tell me Jordan? Why didn't you tell me Jack's my son?"  
  
"Jack's MY child. Mine alone"  
  
"I may not be a doctor but I knew it takes two..."  
  
"We had unprotected sex and the result was a child. My child."  
  
"That sounded pretty damn clinical. I thought we had more than that that night, Jordan."  
  
The words were spoken so softly that Jordan had to look away from his face. Woody misinterpreted her reaction as regret. Her angry words only added to it. His blood ran cold.  
  
"You died the second you walked out of my life. I've moved on. Jack and I have moved on."  
  
The blood drained out of his face.  
  
"How quickly did you move on Jordan? Is that why you named Winslow as Jack's father? Was there some doubt to who exactly is Jack's father?"  
  
The question cut Jordan to the bone. The last five years Eddie had been there for her, but he was never in her bed.  
  
"You know me I have a thing for cops."  
  
Woody stepped back like he had just been kicked.  
  
"Apparently, I'm the last to know about my ...son, and I plan to make up for lost time."  
  
"Not if I have anything to say about it. You're a stranger to Jack..."  
  
"Not for long."  
  
Woody stormed back out of the crypt. The sight he came out was as welcoming as the one he left. Mayer and Nigel had matching expressions of rage on their faces. Jack clutched his arms and legs around Nigel his face buried in his neck. He knew without a doubt that everything they had said was overheard, at least by the adults. Remembering his irrational words, he felt the harsh wave of regret hit him full blast.  
  
He realized he has hated himself for so long, that it had become natural to lash out at everyone and everything in his path. It was a habit he had perfected over the last five years. Now he had used it on the woman he loved and the son he didn't know existed. He wanted to lean against the wall and cry right along with Jack.  
  
Jordan opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.  
  
"I believe you have everything you need Agent Mayer."  
  
Jordan wordless reached out for Jack as Nigel handed him over. Jordan wrapped her arms around his small body and placed a kiss on his head.  
  
"We should have those test results back by Monday. I'll have a courier drop them off as soon as I get them. Thanks Nigel."  
  
With a stiff back Jordan walked to her office and shut the door behind her. Mayer stood toe to toe with Woody and even at five foot six, she looked down her nose at him.  
  
"I was right. You are an asshole."  
  
She was still shaking her head as she left. Woody turned his attention to Nigel.  
  
"I guess this is the part where you want to kick my ass."  
  
"However tempting it may sound, you out weigh me by at least a stone. I would like to offer you some advice though."  
  
"Right now I'd listen to anyone who could talk me out of jumping of the roof."  
  
"Well, then buy me a cup of coffee and we'll talk."  
  
"Can we change that to a beer?"  
  
"It's a bit early, but I think we can find someplace that is on a nice ground floor." 


	17. Advice, Legal and Otherwise

Jordan left the morgue and rushed to a plush downtown office complex. Holding Jack's cold little hand, she dialed Renee's number on the security phone at the front door of the building. She knew she would be gambling to find it occupied on a Saturday morning. In a million years Jordan would never admit it but she was happy to hear Renee Walcott's voice on the other end.  
  
"Renee, I need your help."  
  
She was buzzed in the building immediately. Renee met them at the elevator. Jack launched himself at Renee's legs. Renee forgot about her five hundred dollar slacks and knelt down on the floor.  
  
"Sweetness and light, what happened?"  
  
Renee looked up at Jordan's stark face. Jordan looked away.  
  
"Can...can we talk? I need some advice."  
  
"......Surely, hang on a minute."  
  
Renee stood and walked Jack to the back of her offices. Jordan could hear her talking to one of her subordinates. Renee returned a moment later without Jack. Renee studied Jordan's face. Renee knew whatever was bothering Jordan must have been terrible for her to ask for help.  
  
"One of my interns is going to see if there's anything to eat in the board room. Let's go in my office."  
  
"......thanks."  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
"I need some legal advice."  
  
Renee nodded her head. She set down behind her desk and motioned Jordan to take a seat opposite. The deep chair sucked Jordan in. She set up toward the edge. She felt more comfortable knowing she could make a quick exit.  
  
Jordan told Renee about Woody's return and their confrontation in the crypt.  
  
"I see."  
  
"That's right. I need to get something, some kind of paperwork that can keep him away from my son."  
  
"Jordan, it doesn't work that way."  
  
Jordan stood up.  
  
"What do you mean?!"  
  
"Jordan, sit down." Renee waited until she did. "Is Lieutenant Winslow named on the birth certificate as Jack's father?"  
  
"....No...."  
  
"Then Hoyt is well with in his rights to demand access to his child. It would just take a simple DNA test and any judge would grant that just by looking at the two of them."  
  
"That's impossible."  
  
"If what you tell me is true, he is gainfully employed; he has shown interest to building a relationship with his child, and the circumstances of his absence in Jack's first few years were not do to his own makings. Jordan, I see cases everyday that involve a dead beat dad. You should be thankful he's willing to take on the responsibility....."  
  
"No, you don't understand, Jack is happy just the way he is. To uproot his world just so that his biological father can set it on its end... I don't want to put him through that."  
  
"I need to know Jordan; is it Jack you are worried about or is it yourself?"  
  
Jordan didn't answer her. Renee pulled a set of keys out of her purse. She handed them to Jordan.  
  
"You wanted my advice and I'm going to give it to you. Those are the keys to the house in the Berks. Take some time away and think about it. You need to figure out where you fit into all this before you can decide what to do. Jordan, if I ever feel that Jack would suffer in any way I would fight Hoyt tooth and nail and he'd be as far away from that precious boy as I could get him. "  
  
Jordan mumbled her thanks and collected Jack who didn't seem to be the worse for wear after witnessing a second fight between his parents. Christ, she thought, his parents. She decided Renee had a point. She needed to get away for a few days and figure out what she was going to do about Woody. She knew she wouldn't be able to leave until the ID had been made on the body. She just hoped Woody wouldn't be camping out at her door when they got home.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A few days later, Woody sat at his office with his tie loose and his shelves rolled up, staring at the rental section from the newspaper on his desk. He needed to move out the hotel. He now had roots in the city and he planned on making it work.  
  
At the oddest times of the day he would stop and think about Jack. And on the flipside he would wake up at night thinking about Jordan.  
  
He thought back to the conversation he had with Nigel. Nigel told him about the fear and confusion Jordan had finding out she was going to have a baby. At first, he had just assumed that she was just anxious about what end of the baby to diaper. It wasn't until after Jordan confessed about the night she had spent with Woody did Nigel realize the true extent of her fear. He told Woody that Eddie and Jordan where never really together. It was just her way of protecting her child from the unknown. An unknown that Woody himself created.  
  
It was at that point that Woody decided to lay low for awhile... and it was killing him.  
  
He had been totally unfair with Jordan. She was just protecting her son: their son. He leaned back in his chair. Jack....with his dark hair and blue eyes. He wondered what he looked like when he wasn't scared to dead.  
  
Woody sighed, Gaylord. He didn't know his mother had kept him. With a deep breath he reached for the phone. It was time to call his family.  
  
"Hey stranger."  
  
At the sound of the sweetly familiar feminine voice Woody looked up to see Lily Lebowski standing in his doorway. He forgot about his phone call.  
  
"Lily"  
  
Woody stood up from his desk and met Lily as she walked in to the room. When she made to move to give him a hug he wrapped her in his arms and held her close. He had to fight the tears that threaten to come to his own eyes when he felt hers wet his shirt.  
  
"Oh goodness, I'm sorry ....oh." Lily said laughingly as she pulled herself out of his embrace.  
  
Lily had a production of brushing the slight wetness off Woody shirt.  
  
"I heard you were back...." Lily held of a linen covered basket. "Here, I made you some muffins."  
  
Woody took the basket from and set it on his desk he opened the napkin. He couldn't remember the last time someone made something for him. It felt good.  
  
"Thank you, Lily. Come over here sit down. Let me look at you. "  
  
Woody pointed to a chair that set across his desk. Lily perched herself on the very edge. Woody pulled another chair closer and took a seat.  
  
"You're prettier then ever."  
  
Lily laughed out loud. "Oh, thank you. It's good to see you. I've often wondered what you've been up to for the last few years."  
  
"You don't want to know. I want to hear about you. How have you've been?" he said holding her hands with a smile. For the first time in a long time he was beginning to feel like his old self.  
  
"Good.... I've been busy."  
  
Lily eyes zeroed in the scar that ran over his forearm.  
  
"Wow, how did that happen?"  
  
"It's nothing."  
  
Lily looked at him with her eyebrows raised. Woody stood and franticly rolled his sleeves down as he stepped behind his desk.  
  
"You've been busy, huh?"  
  
"Yeah." Lily picked up on his tension and stood herself. "It's great to have you back Woody. We missed you."  
  
Woody picked up a pile of papers on his desk and straightened them and placed them back were they were. Lily's reached her hand out and placed it on top of his.  
  
"Do you want me to leave Woody?" She said in the soft professional tone she was honed over the last few years.  
  
"No," Woody looked up and some of the tension left his body. "No, it's just I'm going through a little adjustment being back. I treated you and everybody else like shit before I left and I guess I'm still feeling a little guilty."  
  
"You did what you had to do. Because of you did, a lot of dangerous people went to jail. Nobody holds you responsible for your actions."  
  
Except Jordan, he thought. The statement must have been written all over his face.  
  
"She doesn't either. It's just that the last few years have been a rollercoaster for her. In some ways, it was for all of us Woody....but we're all fine."  
  
Woody set on the edge of his desk and grabbed a muffin out of the basket. She leaned back on the desk next to him. For Woody, it felt good to have someone on his side.  
  
"You don't know of any empty apartments around do you?"  
  
"Are you looking for a place?"  
  
"My bank account can't handle many more days in a hotel."  
  
Lily smiled at him. He became self conscience.  
  
"What?" He laughed back.  
  
"It sounds like you going to be sticking around for awhile."  
  
"This is home" He set the untouched muffin back in the basket.  
  
"You don't sound too happy about it."  
  
"It's just that I've really screwed up any chance I ever had for a welcome home parade."  
  
Lily smiled sadly and put her arm around his shoulders. Nigel had told her about the rocky homecoming Woody has had.  
  
"Today's a new day Woody, and you're not as alone as you think you are."  
  
"Lily, you don't know how much your friendship means to me."  
  
"Hey, I know a thing or two about being the odd man out...... Crap, I have to get back to work."  
  
Lily stood up and walked toward the door she snapped her fingers and turned back.  
  
"Oh, I almost forgot...I have something else for you."  
  
Lily opened her bag and pulled out a photograph and handed it to Woody. It was a picture of Jack clutching Gaylord tightly, the picture itself was just a snapshot but the smile on Jack's face was...perfect. Woody couldn't take his eyes off the photo.  
  
"He needs you Woody and Jordan does to, even though... she'll never admit it."  
  
"I think Jordan would have preferred that I stayed lost. I don't think she wants me anywhere near him."  
  
"I think you need another father's sympathetic ear. And you're in luck I happen to know one that is also a bartender."  
  
Woody shook his head.  
  
"You've got to be joking right? Max wouldn't even be in the same room with me when I left."  
  
"That was before. Things have changed."  
  
"I don't know"  
  
"Do me a favor and think about it. Welcome home, Woody."  
  
With a small wave Lily floated out of the door. 


	18. Gone

"She's gone."  
  
"What do you mean she's gone?"  
  
Woody stood in the doorway to Trace. Bug sat busily at his desk not looking up at him.  
  
"She finished up a John Doe she's been working on for YOUR office and she left. Macy said she's off the rotation for awhile."  
  
"For how long?"  
  
"If I knew, I wouldn't bloodily likely to tell you..."  
  
Bug turned his full attention to forms sitting on his desk. Woody knew he had been dismissed. He knew it was fruitless to look for a sympathetic face. He had already searched. The only other person he recognized was Emmy and she was too busy running away from him like he was the ghost of Christmas Past.  
  
Woody stood in the hallway, with his hands on his hips. He should have tried to talk to her earlier. He couldn't help but wonder if she ran again.  
  
He was finally able to corner Emmy. She finally admitted that Jordan just went away for a few days and she didn't know where. He debated his options. Maybe Lily was right; he needed a sympathetic ear.  
  
Before he could change his mind he headed off to visit Max.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The after work crowd had just started to descend on Pogue. Max pulled a pitcher for a group at the pool table when he heard the bell over the door ring.  
  
"Blessed Mother of Mercy" he muttered when he saw who it was.  
  
Woody stopped just inside the door. He looked around taking in the atmosphere. Many of the happiest and few of the worst moments in his life took place inside those warm walls. Woody looked over at the bar catching Max's eye. He tried to smile but Max only looked down at the bar.  
  
Woody waited with his feet glued to floor for Max to do something. He was relieve when Max only raised his hand to motion for him to take a seat instead of leveling the revolver he had stashed under the bar at Woody's head.  
  
"Don't stand there blocking the door Hoyt. Take a seat."  
  
Woody finally was able to smile, be it brief.  
  
"Hello Max." he said as he slipped onto a stool at the end of the bar.  
  
"Hoyt, you still take your scotch neat?"  
  
Woody nodded.  
  
"You don't mind if I join you?"  
  
"......I'd like that."  
  
Woody sat silently as Max poured the drinks.  
  
"I hear you're with the Bureau now."  
  
For the next few minutes Max listened silently as Woody told him about his life on the other side of reality and return. Like a parishioner to his priest Woody didn't mince words. Later he would try to figure out why he opened up so fully to Max when there wasn't any other living person who knew all the details. He decided that he felt Max of all people would some how understand.  
  
"I screwed up Max...I want to be a part of my child's life but I don't think I'll be able to"  
  
Max refilled his own glass when he noticed Woody's remained untouched.  
  
"I asked Jordan when she first announced she was pregnant if in fact you were the father. She wouldn't answer me...I should have known right then and there."  
  
Woody took a sip of his liquor and let it burn in his mouth for a second before he swallowed it.  
  
"I confronted Eddie at his office. I knew that he and Jordan had tried to put aside their differences....but I didn't think they were...Well, I got him to admit that he wasn't the father of my unborn grandchild but he was his protector. Jordan had come to him after she discovered she was carrying Jack and asked him to help keep him out of harm's way."  
  
Woody thought back to something Nigel had told him the other day. He believed that a cop would be safer than a lanky British doctor. Woody could only imagine want she went through. No wonder she was so defensive, she's had to be from the moment he left her standing there bare and alone in her apartment. Woody tossed back the rest of his drink.  
  
"I should have taken her with me...she asked me to."  
  
"That wasn't your decision to make."  
  
Max jumped when Woody's fist came down on the bar rattling the glassware underneath it.  
  
"If she were with me I could have protected them. Damn it Max, I loved her....Hell, I still do. But now, not only does she not want me around; Jack is scared to death of me."  
  
"I can't answer for her reaction Woody. But I can tell you this; after you left she shut everybody out. She barely said anything to me for weeks. Hell, she couldn't even be in the same room with Garret. I thought for sure she'd leave again. I think if it weren't for Jack she would have. Her pregnancy helped us put all our problems aside."  
  
"Did she have any problems delivering him?"  
  
"No, but he took his sweet time...the doctors threatened cesarean if she couldn't get her labor moving. Nigel, Eddie, and I took turns walking her up on down the hospital corridors. She spent half her time cursing men in general and the biblical unfairness of life and the other half she just wanted to be left alone."  
  
Max could still picture her standing there during those quiet moments looking out the window, silent tears running down her face, the unmasked questions beseeching him in her eyes. It was all Max could do to stand there and watch her heart breaking all over again.  
  
When her time came she kicked everyone out of the room. They were all banned to the waiting room until the doctor came and told them she had a boy. Nigel seemed to be the only one that understood that if she couldn't spend that moment with the one she wanted to, she's spend it alone.  
  
"When Jack finally arrived it was like Jordan was suddenly given a clean slate. Her world centered on him.... She's a good mother Woody. Jack is a happy, handsome little man. Just give her time...she won't deny you a place in Jack's life....."  
  
"I need to see them Max. Garret has taken off rotation for awhile and she's gone. Where did they go?"  
  
Max's eyebrows shot up.  
  
"Is that why you stopped by? Not to catch up but to pry information from me?"  
  
Woody had the good grace to look away.  
  
"Just tell me Max."  
  
Max picked up there empty glasses and put them under the bar and proceeded to wipe down the bar.  
  
"She wanted time alone to figure out what she's going to do."  
  
"I can't take the chance that she'll keep me from him Max. You're a father you can understand that..."  
  
The thought of not being able to see his four year old Jordan would have killed him and Max knew it.  
  
"They went to Garret's summer place."  
  
"Please Max."  
  
Reluctantly Max wrote the directions to the house on the back of a napkin. Before Max could pocket his pen Woody was gone. 


	19. Mr Johnny Jack

Jordan sat on the floor and leaned back against the couch. She could see why Garret loved this house. A fire was roaring in the fireplace warming the vaulted ceiling room toasty. It felt wonderful after arriving earlier in the evening to a drizzle of sleet and snow. Looking through a stray lock of hair she raised her eyes to the second story opening on each side of the massive fireplace. One led to the master bedroom and the other to the guestroom that she and Jack would be sharing. The air should be warming up nicely up there also.  
  
A sharp yank on her hair brought her eyes back down.  
  
"Ouch!"  
  
"Sorry Mama." Jack said pulling the brush through his mother's hair slower.  
  
"That's okay a woman has to put up with a certain amount of discomfort when world famous Mr. Johnny Jack does her hair."  
  
Jack only giggled and put yet another banana clip in her hair.  
  
"You're going to be beautiful Mama."  
  
Jack jumped off the couch, his Mickey Mouse sleeper bunched around his body. He handed Jordan the hand mirror he grabbed from bathroom when he gathered every hair clip he could find in her pocketbook. It reminded Jordan it was passed time to clean out her bag.  
  
"Oh my, it's something buddy."  
  
Jordan had to smirk at her son's handy work; she figured it would take her at least an hour and a deep conditioner to get all the snarls out. She was still admiring it when there was a knock on the door.  
  
"Jack, stay right here while I get the door."  
  
Jordan walked through the great room the kitchen. She assumed it was Garret's neighbor who watched the place. Garret said he would call and tell them that she was going to be spending a few days there, but they must have wanted to check up on her anyway. Cautiously she opened the door. She wasn't prepared to see Woody with his back to her on the windy porch.  
  
"Hi" he said turning around.  
  
Jordan noticed that he was dressed in a somewhat rumpled suit. His wingtips were soaked from walking up the unpaved drive that was white with the accumulating wet snow. For a moment she was reminded of that day when he should up at her door, wet from the falling rain and looking like the weight of the world was dragging him down for the last count. She pushed the memory away.  
  
"May I come in?"  
  
"Why are you here?"  
  
"We need to talk Jordan."  
  
"How did you know were to find us?"  
  
Woody wrapped his arms around himself wishing he hadn't of left his coat in the car.  
  
"Your father gave me the directions. Please Jordan; I'm freezing my ass off out here."  
  
Jordan opened the door wider and stepped aside so he could come in.  
  
"Nice place" he said looking around the interior of state of the art kitchen. He could only make out one side of the large great room off to his right.  
  
Jordan closed the door and stood in front of him with her hands on her hips ready to tell him to leave.  
  
"Nice do."  
  
Jordan's hands snapped up to her hair and patted it down looking for somewhere to start to get all the rubber bands and clips out of it.  
  
"I think she looks pretty."  
  
Woody turned to the little voice that was coming from the corner of the refrigerator. He smiled widely.  
  
"I think so too. Did you help her?"  
  
"Yep, she likes it when I play with her hair."  
  
Woody turned back to Jordan. "I'll have to remember that."  
  
Jordan knew he was talking to Jack but she couldn't help but feel a flutter in her stomach. She remembered when he brushed her hair out after they took a shower that night. He had barely got all the snarls out of it before they put them all back again. She crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
"What do you want Woody?"  
  
"Just to talk.....hey Jack, did you see all that snow coming down out there?"  
  
"Mama says there won't be enough for a snow man, but she says we can go outside and play in it tomorrow."  
  
"That sounds like fun..."  
  
Jack became more animated as he spoke.  
  
"Dr. Garret says we can come back when there's lots of snow and build one. But...but tomorrow we're going to make snow angels if it's not too wet. You wanna make some too?"  
  
Woody couldn't believe his luck. He was prepared to camp out on the doorstep if he had to. If he worked it right he would be staying inside.  
  
"Honey, Agent Hoyt only stopped by for a second..."  
  
"The weather is going straight down hill out there Jordan."  
  
"Mama, there's lots of room here since it's just us."  
  
"I don't think it would be a good idea...."  
  
Woody lowered his voice so only Jordan could hear him.  
  
"I'm not leaving until we've had a chance to talk."  
  
"Come on Mama. I bet Agent Hoyt could make a big snow angel."  
  
Jack was bouncing around with his arms spread wide. Woody didn't know how and why he stopped being the boogieman, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He gave Jordan the identical smile her son was presenting her.  
  
She was powerless.  
  
"I would feel guilty if you slid off the road trying to get off this hill...Okay, only until morning and your sleeping on the couch."  
  
"He can sleep in Miss Renee and Dr. Garret's bed Mama...it's so big I bet wouldn't fall off or nothing."  
  
"Miss Renee? Like as in Walcott?"  
  
"Yeah, she and Dr. Garret are married...I got to go to the wedding and eat all the cake I could! Mama said I could because it was a special day and Hell just froze over...opps."  
  
Jordan arched her eyebrow at her son.  
  
"Sorry Mama" he said looking at his feet.  
  
"Go brush your teeth it's time to go to bed....I'll be up in a minute."  
  
Once Jack was out of earshot Jordan began to grab madly at her hair and hissed "You stay right here. I'll be down in a minute."  
  
Woody laughed to himself and he heard her yelp as her rounded to corner to follow Jack.  
  
Once he heard her light footfalls on the stairs he kicked off his shoes and walked further into the house. The great room looked like it took up most the space of the high two story. The massive natural stone fireplace stood impressively freestanding in the middle of the house. His brother would call it a three pig fireplace because of the sheer size of the hearth.  
  
He could hear Jordan talking to Jack about his teeth brushing technique and realized the upstairs must be an open loft. From a bank of tall windows and French doors in the back of the room he could make out a wood and flag stone deck that ran the length of the house. The darkness obscured the view but he would bet his next paycheck that it would be fabulous with the sunrise.  
  
The fire took the last of the chill out of his bones and he took off his damp suit coat and laid it over the back of a winged back chair along with his tie. He was debating about going to get his stuff out of the car when he heard Jordan coming back down the stairs behind the fireplace.  
  
Jordan rounded the corner and stopped when she saw him.  
  
"I thought I told you to stay put."  
  
"Sorry Jordan, I'm tired and I'm cold and I'm not going to stand by and wait for you to quietly kick me out."  
  
Woody sat down in the middle of the couch picking up Jordan's brush that Jack had left lying there.  
  
"Nice place. It would kind of make it worth having to be married to the wicked witch."  
  
"I wouldn't say that too loud, Jack thinks she is Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny rolled into one. He's head or heals in love with her."  
  
"Now that's a scary picture."  
  
"He's taste runs for totally unsuitable women ...He's your son, what do you expect?"  
  
Jordan seconded guessed her words too late.  
  
"My son. God, I love the sound of that."  
  
"Yes well, donating sperm doesn't make you a father."  
  
"I couldn't help but notice he's still calling me as Agent Hoyt..."  
  
"He apparently didn't hear or understand what happened in the Crypt...He was just scared because he heard raised voices....which, by the way, I'd like to keep him from at all costs." Jordan looked toward the kitchen.  
  
Woody smiled. He was not in the mood to fight with her. Thanks to his son's gracious invitation he was not going anywhere.  
  
In fact he didn't need to be back to work for one hundred and twenty nine point five days if he didn't want to. He hadn't taken a day of vacation time since he joined the Bureau.  
  
His old boss pressured him into using some of it but he never saw the reason, until now. While he was throwing some clothes in a bag, he called Tillman and asked him for some leave. He gladly told him to take his time.  
  
Woody liked to think it was because Tillman wanted him to take a vacation, but he knew it was because he had already moved forward on more cases in the last week than the rest of the staff put together. His co-workers were a little grumpy trying to play catch up.  
  
Yes, they'd talk; but he could afford to postpone it for as long as he could.  
  
Woody defiantly settled back in the sofa and looked back at Jordan who was busy trying to pull the left over snarls out of her hair. He held up the brush and patted the couch cushion next to him.  
  
"Come here, maybe I can help." 


	20. The Snow Begins to Melt

Jordan looked like she was going to run. She squared her shoulders and slowly walked over to sit down on the couch as far away from him as she could get.  
  
"Here, let me have my brush."  
  
"Nope, just turn around....."  
  
Jordan shook her head and rolled her eyes.  
  
"I promise I won't bite," he added with a smile.  
  
Still not trusting him, Jordan turned around, her stiff back. She felt the sofa cushion shift as he moved closer. She closed her eyes willing herself not to affected. She could handle his unwanted and unneeded presence.  
  
Her eyes flew back open at the first touch of his fingers threading through her hair.  
  
"Relax" he whispered in her ear. "Jack said you like to have your hair brushed, besides... I've had practice."  
  
Slowly he pulled the brush through the length of her hair. Her back began to relax as he alternately combed through her hair with the brush and his fingers. Ever so tenderly he loosened the knots that Jack's eagerness had created.  
  
She didn't know if it were hours or only minutes later that she felt him brush her newly detangled hair over one shoulder. Unconsciously, she let herself lean back against him. The warmth of the fire and his fingertips lightly brushing the side of her neck lulled her in to a false sense of security.  
  
Suddenly, the grandfather clock in the corner of the room chimed off the hour bringing her back to her sanity. She stood.  
  
"It's late."  
  
She turned her back to him and wrapped her arms around her waist.  
  
"Ah, if you want to, you can take the master bedroom. Jack and I are sharing the bed in the guest room." Jordan jumped when she felt Woody stand and cup her upper arms in his hands.  
  
"I love you, Jordan....."  
  
"Garret may have left some extra... stuff upstairs if you check the closet...."  
  
Woody stroked his hands down her arms. "I never stopped..."  
  
"The bathroom is on the left... and ....and please leave the light on when you're done.... so Jack doesn't get lost if he has to get up in the middle of the night."  
  
"Jordan"  
  
Before he could stop her, she all but ran out of the room. Jordan didn't slow down until she had shut herself in the upstairs bathroom.  
  
Jordan looked at herself in the mirror hanging over the sink. She looked at her smooth hair carefully and purposely lying over one shoulder. Her hands instinctively rose to cover her flushed cheeks. She turned on the water and splashed her face.  
  
She was drying her face when she heard the front door open and close. She couldn't understand the panic that was threatening to erupt out of her. She ran to the window in the dimly lit guestroom and looked out at the drive way. Woody walked out to the driveway in his shirt shelves while the snow flurries blew around him. He stood there like a statue beside his parked car.  
  
Jordan's heart began to echo in her chest as he opened the car door. He looked up at the window and she pulled back. For a moment she thought he was going to jump in the car and drive away. After a few heartbeats he reached inside the car and pulled out a coat and a bag.  
  
Jordan let the curtain fall back into place and crawled in bed beside her son. She pulled his warm, boneless body close and willed herself to relax.  
  
She was still wide awake when the clock chimed the next hour and she heard Woody's foot steps on the stairs. She could feel him standing on the outside of the door-less entry to the guestroom. She could just make out his shadow. After a moment he turned and walked into the other bedroom.  
  
Jordan decided her reaction to him had everything to do with a little left over lust and her dry spell. Once she got back into town she would dig out her appointment book.  
  
Jordan spent most of the night staring at the ceiling and she made some decisions. Woody was right; they needed to talk.  
  
She felt the sooner they did the sooner he could leave.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Woody kicked himself as he pulled off his clothes and crawled into bed. He had been telling himself for days that a relationship with Jack was all he wanted. But, as soon he saw Jordan standing there next to the fire place with her hair a wild jumble of knots, he realized he needed them both. He needed them more then he needed his next breath.  
  
He pushed her.  
  
She was right. He wanted to sign on the dotted line and take his old life out of storage. Only, the first moment that they had shared that neither one of their defenses where up and he had pressured her.  
  
At the first touch of her silky soft hair he was gone. The memories of wrapping its length around his hands came flooding through his consciousness. Normally he could only allow those memories in the hell of his dreams.  
  
He had stood by his car and debated on driving back the highway to find a hotel. He would distance himself until the harsh light of day could bring him back to reality. But Jack was expecting him to be there in the morning. That fragile new found trust was more important.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Woody woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and the low murmur of voices. He pulled on a pair of ancient Levis and grabbed and equally as old flannel shirt and started down the stairs. He was just finishing the buttons when he rounded the corner. The morning view out the windows was more spectacular then he imagined. Woody caught the flash of navy blue blanket sleeper as Jack ran back and forth in front of the windows.  
  
"But Mama, it's all gonna be gone if we wait any longer" he besieged her in a stage whisper.  
  
Jack stopped in mid stride when he caught sight of Woody. He eyes popped as he made a wide berth around him to run into the kitchen. Woody followed catching Jack whispering into his mother's ear as she leaned over the listen. Jack looked around his mother's legs and pointed his finger. Jordan stood and turned.  
  
"...Good Morning"  
  
Jordan tried to ignore how his sleep softened face and voice made her feel. The hardness was gone and it almost felt like she was looking at the old Woody.  
  
"Yes, I...I hope you slept well. I'll get you a cup of coffee."  
  
"Jack, why don't you go upstairs and play with your toys. Agent Hoyt and I have to have a big talk."  
  
"Mama?! The snow will be gone."  
  
Woody smiled. Fate was working in his favor.  
  
"He's right you know. The first snow of the season is too special to waste. Go get dressed buddy and we'll see if there's enough snow to slide down the hill."  
  
Jack left the room with a whoop. Jordan braced her hands on the countertop.  
  
"I thought you wanted to talk."  
  
Woody poured himself the forgotten cup of coffee. He made a production out fixing it before he answered her.  
  
"I do. We'll have plenty of time later...after Jack has gone to bed. Right now, I want to play in the snow. Would you care to join us?"  
  
Jordan could barely control her anger at him assuming he could spend another night with them.  
  
"I didn't except company on this trip. I didn't bring enough food."  
  
Smiling over his coffee cup Woody replied. "Don't worry about that. We can always run out later...."  
  
Jack flew into the room. His sweatshirt on backwards and his socks were mismatched. In one hand he was dragging his coat and snow pants and in the other one of his boots.  
  
"Slowdown cowboy" his mother chimed. She reached over to help Jack right his shirt.  
  
"Mama, hurry up!"  
  
Woody sat down at the table and pulled on the boots he had dropped there last night when he brought his belongings inside. He looked up and felt his heart fill as he watched Jordan try to dress the squirming child.  
  
Once Jack was set, Jordan glared at Woody. The look she gave him was unmistakable. They were far from done with their conversation.  
  
"Come on Mama, you still have to get dressed!"  
  
"Jack, why don't we just leave your mother here so she can relax? How about just you and me......."  
  
"Sure" Jack was out the door before Woody finished speaking.  
  
"Relax Jordan. I'm not going to take off with him." He picked up her empty coffee cup and handed it to her. "Here, have some more coffee and watch the rest on the sunrise. We'll talk later..... Oh by the way...." he added as he dropped a quick peck on her lips, "...I like my eggs over easy."  
  
If the coffee cup that was in her hands wasn't Lenox she would have thrown it at his head.  
  
Instead she smiled. 


	21. Batman & Robin

Jordan admitted defeat.  
  
The talk would have to wait because 'later' never came. Morning turned into afternoon. Every time Jordan would try to corner Woody alone Jack would trot up like puppy looking for a butterfly to chase. Woody used him as excuse to dodge out of her range.  
  
Jordan put Jack down for a short nap and Woody slipped out to go into town for some extra groceries. When he returned Jack was playing outside on the deck and Jordan was curled up on the couch, under a knotty throw, with a pile of periodicals. He picked up one from the top of her pile.  
  
"Journal of Forensics and Postmortem Analyses..." he scanned the first page and said "...entertaining right before dinner."  
  
Jordan only shot him an evil eye. He should be thankful that she still wasn't trying to run him out of the house. A flash of movement out on the deck drew Woody's attention. A few short days ago he didn't even know Jack existed; now he couldn't picture his life with out him. He dropped the journal back on Jordan's pile and opened the door leading out the deck.  
  
Once outside, Woody stopped to admire the view of the rolling hills in the distance. The snow had melted into shaded patches, but it was still chilly. Jack was bundled up like the Pillsbury dough boy.  
  
"Hi" Jack said glancing his way once.  
  
Woody returned the greeting and smiled as he watched Jack concentrating on his toys. Jack taken the array of iron patio furniture and grouped them methodically. Two chairs over ended formed an enclosure where his hoard of action figures lay in wait for their turn in what ever adventurous whim their owner would include them in. Jack was busy trying to get Robin to balance on his feet on an inlayed end table with a length of string wrapped around its arm. Woody squatted down against the building and watched the action.  
  
"Looks like Batman's in trouble." Woody said pointing to the toy lying on the deck beside the table.  
  
"Robin is going to save him before The Flash can kill him."  
  
"Oh, okay ....maybe he needs some help."  
  
"Superman's on the way, but The Lantern put Kryptonite in his way."  
  
"That could be a problem."  
  
Woody watched the dramatic rescue with a smile. As soon as Batman was saved, Jack put Robin on the railing on the corner of the deck next to Gaylord, who sat like a gargoyle looking down on Jack's little world. Woody smiled as Superman and Batman vanquished The Flash to the empty planter that he had moved under the patio table.  
  
"Can I play?" Woody asked.  
  
Jack shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"Here, you can be Spiderman."  
  
Jack handed Woody a well loved Spiderman. Each one of his figures looked like they were played with often.  
  
Woody rubbed his arms at he chilly late afternoon air.  
  
"I should have brought out my jacket...."  
  
"Mama has my Daddy's jacket."  
  
The statement came out of nowhere. Woody was glad Jack was busily setting up for his next escapade and didn't notice the shocked look on his face.  
  
"What do you mean Jack?"  
  
"She's got my Daddy's jacket, like the one you wore yesterday, in her closet...way in the back."  
  
Woody thought he must be referring to his suit coat. He was in such a hurry to drive up last night, he didn't bother to change before he left hotel.  
  
"She takes it out sometimes, late at night when she thinks I'm asleep, especially after she's worked late to help put a bad guy in jail or when it rains really hard."  
  
Jack picked up his Superman and stood him up on the flagstone in front of him.  
  
"She puts it on even if it's not cold..... and it's way too big for her. She sometimes cries too....Grandpa says when I'm older I'll understand. I just think she looks silly."  
  
Jack pulled The Flash out of the planter standing him in front of Superman.  
  
"Eddie just says it's because my Daddy was a lot like Robin."  
  
Woody looked over at the Robin who sat as far away form the scene as Jack could put him.  
  
"He says that Mama gets sad because she and my Daddy were a good team like Batman and Robin. You see, Batman was a superhero before Robin came to work at the HallofJustice and they became best friends."  
  
Jack said Hall of Justice as if it were one word. He picked up the Batman and handed it to Woody. He stood up to grab Robin.  
  
"Batman is a superhero without any superpowers. He just wanted to work alone. Eddie says it he was alone 'cuz The Joker killed his mama. Then one day Robin came to work at the HallofJustice and he didn't have any superpowers either, so they decided to be a good team and put lots of bad people in jail."  
  
Jack smashed Robin into The Flash sending him skidding across the deck. Once The Flash came to a stop Jack stood and put Robin back in his warm spot next to Gaylord.  
  
"Eddie sounds like a smart guy." Woody said holding Batman.  
  
"Yeah, but he still makes me eat cauliflower sometimes. Batman and Spiderman have to meet Superman over here. He needs to finish filling out his report for the DA and Batman and Spiderman need to take The Flash to the morgue this time."  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Jordan had been watching them play with there heads so close together. Jordan knew Jack's imagination could send him just about anywhere. She pulled her blanket tighter around her as she watched their identical expressions. Jordan had to smile as she watched Woody blow on his hands. He was sitting on the cold flagstone in his socks and shirtsleeves. She couldn't help but wonder how long it would take him to remember that a New England November was a lot different then one in Virginia.  
  
A few minutes later Woody couldn't feel his fingers. He handed Jack back Flash and The Hulk. His legs ached as he stood up from the freezing flagstone.  
  
Jordan watched as he rubbed his hands together and opened the French door. She laughed out loud when she noticed he was a pale shade of light blue.  
  
"If you think hypothermia is going to get you out of our talk you have another thing coming." she smirked.  
  
"I thought if I made dinner I could put off that task for awhile.....although, we could always talk while you help warm me up..."  
  
Jordan could feel the cool air radiate off him as he stepped closer.  
  
"You wouldn't dare." she said, her laugh taking any venom out of the words.  
  
"Try me."  
  
In a flash the blanket was on the floor and Woody's hands reached under her shirt to tickle her ribs. Jordan grabbed at his wrist to try and gain leverage but she couldn't through her laughter.  
  
"Wait, that's not fair!"  
  
"All's fair," Woody responded as he tackled her down.  
  
"That's my Mama, stop that."  
  
Woody halted his fingers but kept his hands on her. They both looked over to see Jack standing in the open doorway with his rosy cheeks all that was showing from his hood. If he didn't look so pissed off, Woody would have laughed. He let Jordan go as she carefully pulled her shirt to rights.  
  
"I'm sorry buddy. Your Mama looked so nice and toasty I thought she would like to feel a little cold on her belly."  
  
"You were going to hurt her."  
  
"Jack, I would never hurt mother.....at least not intentionally."  
  
"It's okay, baby. Woody wasn't hurting me." Jordan cooed as she knelt next to Jack to help him with the zipper on his jacket.  
  
"If you hurt her Eddie would shoot you. He told me he would never ever let anything happen to her."  
  
Woody couldn't help the pang of jealously that shot through him. Jack's words just remained him that Winslow was the one who was there when Jordan needed him most.  
  
"I'm glad to hear that Eddie is there to take care of your Mama. I'm going to start dinner."  
  
Jordan didn't now what disappointed her more...Jack's rudeness or the loss of Woody's playful mood. And it bothered her.  
  
"John Fitzgerald Maxwell, I knew I've not been the best example but, we need to talk about politeness..." 


	22. The Talk: Part One

Dinner was a silent affair. Jack mumbled his apology for his behavior. Woody had to bit his lip as he saw how painful it was for him to say the words. At that moment he was definitely a Cavanaugh.  
  
Once the last of the dishes where put away Jordan said, "I think it's time for our talk."  
  
Woody slowly nodded. Jordan yelled for Jack to get ready for his bath. Soon, Woody was left alone in front of the fire. He stared into the flames so much like the flames that lit that night sky so many years ago.  
  
Why did he do it? How did he get himself in the middle of a plan to clean up the Boston PD.? He had asked himself that question a million times and came up with a million different answers. Christ, he wasn't Serpico. He was never strong enough to handle the pressure of the task and what it demanded of him. And then after it was all said and done, he had caved in and at the last minute begged Tillman to get him one night. When what he should have done was just hide in the hotel and never look back.  
  
But would he have given that night back? Never, he selfishly reflected. Would he have taken back the complications it had caused Jordan? He heard Jack splashing in the water. No, he thought, because that complication stole his heart faster then his mother did.  
  
He took the stairs two at a time in time to watch Jack toss Superman in the air. The toy landed in the water with a 'kerplop'.  
  
"Jack, I told you to stop splashing. Miss Renee probably spent a hundred dollars a roll for this wallpaper...."  
  
"Having fun?" Woody said from the doorway.  
  
Jordan pushed a lock of hair back with her wrist. She hands were covered with the suds from Jack's shampoo.  
  
"We'll be done in a minute."  
  
"I just came up to see if you needed any help."  
  
"Oh, we have this down to a system huh, Jack."  
  
Out of the other room Jordan's cell phone began to ring.  
  
"Could you grab that Woody...."  
  
Woody trotted in to the guestroom and found Jordan's phone sitting on top of the dresser. He answered it. He was not prepared to hear the voice on the other end. He carried the phone into the bathroom as Jordan stood and dried her hands. Woody slapped the phone in her hand.  
  
"Who is it?" she asked noticing the dark scowl on his face.  
  
Woody could think of a hundred things to call him. "....Winslow."  
  
"Hi..." Jordan said nervously in the phone. "....Hang on a sec."  
  
She put the phone to her chest. "Woody could you do me a favor and watch him for a minute."  
  
"......Sure"  
  
Jordan had to slide her way around Woody when he didn't make the move to get out of her way in the tight bathroom. She went in to the guest room.  
  
Woody turned his concentration to Jack.  
  
"I hope Eddie's coming to stay with us. He and Mama are getting married just like Miss Renee and Dr. Garret did."  
  
Married? Woody leaned against the sink. Both Nigel and Max told him that there was nothing between them. But that was when Jack was an infant. Had the relationship changed? He knew it wasn't right on so many different levels but he had to ask.  
  
"Jack, why do you think your Mama and Eddie are getting married?"  
  
"She asked me if I'd like Eddie to be my real Daddy and I said okay."  
  
"Dude, I think that water is getting cold. Why don't you jump out and we'll get you ready to go to bed."  
  
"I don't want to go to bed yet."  
  
"Well, it's late and your Mama and I need to have our long talk."  
  
Woody had Jack out and dressed in record time. He was bounding into the guestroom as Jordan was hanging up the phone.  
  
"Mama, I wanted to talk to Eddie."  
  
Jordan put the phone in her pocket. "He said hi, baby....it's time to go to sleep now."  
  
"Jordan, I'll meet you in the kitchen."  
  
Woody turned away not waiting for a response. If the circumstances where different she'd laugh at both he and Eddie's posturing. She had just spent the last ten minutes convincing Eddie that Woody wasn't holding them hostage. As she hung up she told him to go teach Tatiana the finer points of American football.  
  
With one last kiss on Jack's forehead, Jordan turned off the light and went downstairs. Woody was standing at the kitchen counter. He had found Garret's liquor cabinet and poured them both a drink. He tossed his back before she had a chance to join him. Jordan sat her phone on the countertop. Woody looked at it like it was something out of a south side gutter.  
  
"I feel it's only fair to warn you I'm not as much of a heavy weight as I use to be."  
  
Woody poured himself another.  
  
"Fine, I'll drink for the both of us."  
  
"Aren't you acting a little childish Woody?"  
  
"Probably" he said emptying his glass.  
  
Jordan turned to leave. "Fine, I'll bring a blanket down and you can sleep it off right here in the kitchen."  
  
Woody grabbed her arm before she could walk away. He pushed the bottle away from him.  
  
"Jordan, I think it's time we told Jack I'm his father."  
  
"I've been thinking about that and I think we need to wait and ask a professional about it."  
  
"A professional?! What the hell are you talking about?"  
  
"I'm just saying that Jack believes his father is dead. I told him that he was killed in the line of duty. He's built this picture of his father in his head of some kind of caped crusader. I just think we need to break it too him gently."  
  
Neither of them heard the little feet coming down the stairs.  
  
"Who do you want to talk to?"  
  
"Howard."  
  
"Who the hell is Howard?"  
  
Jack heard the name of the funny man who gives him lemon drops when his mama wasn't watching. Jack was intrigued. He slipped to the side of the refrigerator and made himself as small as he could.  
  
"Howard Stiles."  
  
"That weird guy from the state?"  
  
"He's a unique personality, but I wouldn't call him weird."  
  
"He once asked me if cheddar cheese was made from cheddar cows and American cheese was made from American cows. The guy's off."  
  
"I just think it will be for the best. Once Jack is comfortable I don't see why we can't talk to Renee and come up with a very ....liberal visitation schedule."  
  
Jack caught his name, Miss Renee and the word comfortable come out of his Mama's mouth. He was suddenly all ears.  
  
"I don't want that. I want more."  
  
"What? I'll be damned if I'll give you custody."  
  
"Oh, I want custody alright. I want it all Jordan. I want the package deal."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"I want you too Jordan. I want you and I want my son. I want his name to be John Fitzgerald Maxwell... Hoyt! I'll be damned if Winslow or anybody else will take my place."  
  
Jack put his hands over his ears. Agent Hoyt had just said he was his Daddy. All thoughts of Miss Renee and Dr. Stiles' lemon drops fled from his head.  
  
Jordan couldn't stop herself. She lifted her glass and threw the liquor in his face.  
  
"Christ, I thought maybe.....Mayer was right...you are an asshole."  
  
Jack took his hands off his ears and slapped them over his mouth. He had never seen his Mama so mad. He began to panic when he saw Woody grabbed the dishtowel and wiped his face before threw it in the sink. Jack remembered what happened at the hockey game Peter took him to when the players yelled at each other. They threw their gloves on the ice and got closer together. Peter put his hand over Jack's eyes and told him that his mama would never forgive him if he let Jack watch a murder.  
  
Jack dashed back to the great room. He whispered Eddie's phone number over and over in his head. His mama was going to get murdered. He didn't know what the word murder meant but he knew it wasn't good. As quiet as a church mouse he opened the door to the deck. The cold air hit his face. His boots and coat were in the kitchen. He knew he would be cold, but Superman would be strong enough. He knew he could be too.  
  
Jack held Gaylord tight as he ran across the yard. 


	23. The Talk: Part Two

Woody wiped the liquor off his face and threw the towel in the sink. Jordan's lips began to twitch as she looked at Woody's face. It reminded her of Jack's when he knew he was caught doing something wrong and knew he was in deep. She covered her mouth as she felt the first bubble of laughter.  
  
Woody watched the tears of rage in her eyes change with the ridiculousness of the situation. He began to laugh too.  
  
They laughed long and hard.  
  
"I deserved that" he said trying to catch his breath. Jordan could only nod.  
  
"Woody, I have been proposed to over candlelight, in a grocery store, hell, just last month Dryer proposed to me over an autopsy table. But, I never once got an ultimatum like that. You really need work on your moves farm boy."  
  
Woody wiped the tears from his face and made mental note to look up a 'Dryer' who had access to the morgue and put a bullet between his eyes. The thought sobered him up. He stopped laughing and dropped to his knees.  
  
"Would you marry me Jordan?"  
  
"You're serious aren't you?"  
  
Woody looked around the room.  
  
"Jordan....look at me..."  
  
He held his arms open allowing her to look at him kneeling on the kitchen floor, a few stray drops of liquor in his hair and soapy water across his shirt from drying off Jack.  
  
"........You just drenched me in thirty year old scotch and called me an asshole... I had to interrogate half of Boston just to find out where you went and I'm still on my knees asking you to marry me.....I tired of letting life slip though my fingers."  
  
Jordan's smile began to fade.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere sweetheart. You're stuck with me...this time I promise. A wise man once told me we were like Batman and Robin...no superpowers, we just have each other. I need you Jordan."  
  
"Woody, I...."  
  
Woody stood up and took her face in his hands.  
  
"I don't want an answer right now....but don't shut the door on the idea. I love you."  
  
He kissed her softly before she pulled his hands slowly away from her face. He had just said he was going nowhere. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It would be so easy to fall in to that trap again. But the nauseating pit in her stomach reminded her that not only did he leave her once, but he did it twice.  
  
"I better check on Jack."  
  
Woody searched her face trying to read her feelings, she hid them well. Instinctively, he knew he had an uphill fight ahead of him but he wasn't going to give up. He had too much to lose this time.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jordan's phone sitting on the counter. He picked it up. For the first time in five years he felt like he was finally getting his life in order. But there was one last thing he needed to do.  
  
"Jordan, can I use your phone?"  
  
"It's a little late to check in with the office...."  
  
"No, I think it's time to call...Kewaunee."  
  
Jordan sighed knowingly.  
  
"Its number twelve on the speed dial."  
  
Jordan watched as he stared at the phone his Adam's apple went up and down as his fingers tapped the case.  
  
Jordan wiped her face with the back of her hand as she walked up the stairs. She felt like a tractor-trailer had just run over her and then the driver put it in reverse to make sure the job had been done properly. She was craving sleep but she knew it wouldn't be coming anytime too soon.  
  
Her mind was swimming. She would have to turn him down, her heart couldn't take anymore. She just had to convince herself that is was the wisest move. For some reason she knew it was going to be complicated.  
  
She stepped quietly into the bedroom as so not to wake Jack. He was sleeping so soundly she couldn't hear him breathing. It took her only a second to realize the bed was empty. The bathroom light was glowing. She round the corner to tell Jack that it wasn't polite to use the restroom without closing the door, when she noticed it was empty also.  
  
The hairs on arms began to rise. She called out his name. She looked in the master bedroom and in the closets. A quick check under the beds proved he wasn't playing hide and go seek.  
  
She ran down the stairs and looked around the great room. It was then that she noticed the patio door open a crack. She threw it open and saw little foot steps leading out in the fresh frost.  
  
She ran back into the kitchen. Woody heart stopped at the first look at her pale face. He pressed the disconnect button before the second ring.  
  
"Jordan what's wrong?"  
  
"He's gone."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I looked everywhere....I think he went out the back door."  
  
Woody rushed passed her and out the door to the deck. The trail of footprints went around to the front of the house he followed them out to the cars.  
  
Jordan was close behind.  
  
"He must have heard us yelling and went into his escape plan."  
  
"Escape plan?" Woody said looking in the car windows.  
  
"We never knew when the mob would find out Jack's your son...I couldn't take the chance of something happening...."  
  
Woody turned his attention to Jordan.  
  
"...so I taught to run away to some where safe and call Eddie for help."  
  
"Of all the idiotic....Damn it Jordan, you could have had him running into...Okay, okay, we can't be worrying about that now..."  
  
Woody took out his keys and opened his car door he leaned over the fumble with the lockbox under the seat.  
  
"I'm going to start looking for him. You go in and call 911...."  
  
Woody stood up holding his sidearm. He reached over the glove compartment and took out a clip.  
  
"What do you need that for?"  
  
"This is the country Jordan; there were a lot of wildlife tracks in the snow when we went out this morning...."  
  
"Oh my God, I'm going with you."  
  
"No!... No, stay here in case he comes back."  
  
Woody grabbed a flashlight out of the trunk and took off down the road following Jack's trail.  
  
About a hundred feet down the road the footprints became jumbled. Woody could feel Jack's indecision on which direction to go. He called out his name one more time. And then he heard it; a slight whimper next to a black pine.  
  
"Jack?" he said as he slipped his gun into the back of his waistband.  
  
Woody followed the snuffles until he found Jack huddled under the tree. Woody knelt down next to him. Jack's nose was bright pink and dripping onto his lip. He dragged his shelve across his face and then buried it into Gaylord's fur. Woody let out the breath he had been holding since he saw the little prints trailing out of the house.  
  
"Hey buddy."  
  
Jack looked up from Gaylord.  
  
"It's too dark out here."  
  
"Here, hold this." Woody stretched his hand out and handed Jack the flash light. He quickly unbuttoned the shirt he was wearing. He took a quick look at Jack's feet. He hoped the footies of his pajamas gave him some protection.  
  
"I'm scared"  
  
"It's okay Jack... I'm right here. Can you do me a favor and come sit on my lap?"  
  
Jack timidly climbed up on Woody's lap.  
  
"My grandpa wears a t-shirt like that."  
  
"Is that so?" Woody said as he gave Jack a quick once over and wrapped him in the shirt.  
  
"How'd ya get that?" Jack said pointing to the scar on Woody's arm.  
  
"You're mama wasn't there for back up."  
  
"Were you scared?"  
  
"....Yep"  
  
"I want my Mama."  
  
"I told her to sit tight... so, I'm sure she's halfway down the road by now. Let's go see. Wrap your arms around my neck tight Jack." Woody lifted Jack up as he stood and began to walk back out to toward the road.  
  
"Are you really my Daddy?"  
  
"Yes, I am"  
  
Woody placed a kiss on Jack's temple and said a silent prayer. They broke out in to the clearing of the road. They both looked up at Jordan's gasp. She was running toward them with her arms wrapped around the blanket from the sofa.  
  
"Oh, thank God...is he?  
  
Jordan reached out for her son. Jack only clung to Woody tighter.  
  
"He's fine. Just see if can get that blanket around him."  
  
Jordan tucked the blanket tightly around the slight shivering figure.  
  
"Here take this."  
  
Woody leveled Jack in one arm and reached around for his gun. Jordan secreted it into her coat pocket before Jack could see it. Woody let out a hiss that had nothing to due with the death grip Jack had on him. Jordan looked down.  
  
"Woody, your feet...they're bare."  
  
At her words the feeling of cold and pain hit his brain.  
  
"I knew I forgot something."  
  
Jordan could only shake her head.  
  
Once they were inside Jack was checked over with a fine tooth comb for frostbit. He was given a clean bill of health, a dry set of pajamas and was wrapped in a blanket on the couch when Jordan turned her eyes to Woody.  
  
"I'm fine, just take care of him."  
  
"Park it, G-man." Jordan pushed Woody down in the wingback chair closest to the fireplace and knelt down to look at his feet. She was relived to hear Jack's excited voice.  
  
"You missed it Mama. I got to hold the flashlight and everything. He said you'd be right on the road. You where right where he said you'd be....He told me he got that cool cut from you not being his backup...."  
  
Jordan looked at the twisted scar that was eye level on his forearm. Her clinical eye took in the possibility of arterial and tendon damage. It was lucky he had full use of his hand. She looked at his face with the unasked question. Woody just smiled.  
  
"She wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."  
  
Jordan slapped his knee and stood up. "Southern living hasn't turned your skin too tender...you're fine...Boy Wonder."  
  
She turned to Jack and put her hands are her hips. Jack's eyes got big and he swallowed a couple of times. Jordan bit her lip as she pictured Woody standing there with Garret's best scotch dripping down his neck.  
  
"Get upstairs and get back into bed! We'll discuss this in the morning."  
  
"Daddy?!" Jack beseeched the only sympathetic face in the room.  
  
The silence was deafening as Jordan's hands fell slowly off her hips. Her anger was totally deflated with the single word. Woody was the first to find his voice, although it cracked when he spoke.  
  
"You heard you mother...get moving."  
  
As Jack stomped up the stairs, Jordan turned to look at Woody sitting in the chair. The firelight reflected off the fresh tears that were threatening to spill over his eyelashes. In one motion he stood and wrapped his arms around her.  
  
"Is parenthood always like this? One minute you're so frustrated you can't think straight and the next your heart is about to explode...."  
  
"You think this was a rollercoaster you should have been around for potty training."  
  
Jordan pulled away and pointed to the stairs. "Come on, I think after tonight you earned your right of passage into fatherhood. One of the benefits is bed tucking." 


	24. Coming Full Circle

Jordan snuggled Jack close to her and kissed the top of his head. 

"Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?" he asked with a smile.

"Sure honey." she said pulling the covers tighter over his still chilly little body.

"I mean both of you." Jack scooted closer to the edge of the bed. "There's enough room for all three of us."

Woody met Jordan's eyes and after a second stepped into the room "Sure buddy...if it's okay with your mama."

Jordan moved closer to Jack to make room for him to lie down next to her.

Jack struggled to bring his arms out of the covers that his mother had tuck tightly around him and sat up. He reached blindly for Woody arm and brought it over Jordan.

"Closer.  Mama, you can stop shivering now, he's big and warm.  I know."

Jack didn't let go of Woody's hand as he settled down closer to his mother.

"Just like a stack of spoons in the drawer Mama." Jack remarked between yawns.

Jordan was very conscience of Woody's warm body pressed tightly in back of her. She could still smell the scent of chimney smoke and pine that clung to his clothes.   The clock in the great room stuck the time as Jordan began to relax. The thoughts of Jack lying frozen and lifeless on the side of the road were fading. She pulled Gaylord closer to his master.  

Jack released his hold on his father's hand as sleep claimed him.  Woody placed his hand on Jordan's hip and kissed her shoulder as he began to level himself out of the bed.  Jordan turned to face him and reached out to touch his face. 

".......thank you Woody." she whispered.

"Don't thank me Jordan. If I wasn't here....this would have never happened..."

"Don't say that." 

As if almost on reflex she wrapped her hand around his neck and brought his lips down to meet hers. Woody's hand reached out to grab a handful of bedspread to keep from exploring her soft warm flesh as the kiss deepened. He grudgingly lifted his head when he felt his self-control slipping. When she reached for him again he pulled away with one last brush of her hair with his finger tips.  Quietly, he left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack woke in a pool of sweat.  The blankets and his mother's arms were constricting. He wiggled a little and she loosened her grip.  He realized he had to pee.  He had to pee...bad.  He wiggled himself out from under the covers and ran to the bathroom.  Once he remembered to flush the toilet and wash his hands he peeked into the master bedroom.  That bed was so much bigger.  His Daddy wouldn't mind.  Quietly he crept into the room and slid stealthy into the tall bed.   Jack felt safe and sound as his breath slowed to the calm steady rhythm of sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the early morning light, Woody woke up the sensation of a toe in his ear.  He lay there with his eyes closed fighting the feeling of deja vue.  The last time this had happened he was in the cheap motel outside of Arlington. His mouth had tasted like cotton, his jaw ached and the toe in question was painted the most hideous shade of Hawaiian Punch red.  He ran was tongue around his teeth counting them and felt nothing out of the norm.   He took it as a good sign and cracked one eye open.  He smiled when he noticed the toe was connected to a small, healthy pink foot belonging to Jack. 

Carefully, Woody sat up and looked at Jack sleeping soundly beside him like a toad lying in the sun after a little boy had rubbed its belly until it fell asleep.  He had to swing a leg off the bed to keep his balance; some how during the night, Jack had crowded him until he was sleeping on the very edge of the bed.  

He reached out a hand to toy with a baby soft lock of hair that fell over Jack's brow.  He was right, not only was Jack's hair the same color as Jordan's but it had the same texture. 

"Congratulations, you've hit another mile-stone with a parent's love. It allows you to sleep comfortably on twelve inches of a king-size mattress."

Woody looked up to see Jordan leaning on the doorframe.  He put a finger to his lips and slid the rest of the way out of the bed.  

With one last look at Jack he left the room and took Jordan's hand and led her downstairs.

"When I woke up and he wasn't beside me I came looking. I hope he didn't keep you up all night."

"I didn't even know he was there until just now."

"It took me over a year not the hit the ceiling every time he even twitched in the middle of the night." 

They walked into the kitchen and Woody noticed the two glasses on the counter and remembered there was still some unsettled business from last night.  He needed to get back to Boston and give Jordan some space; and himself for that matter.  The kisses they had shared only served only to remind him how much he wanted her.  

"Jordan, I've been thinking....."

"I have been too, Woody...and I'm going to have to turn down your proposal."

"What?"

"It's just that five years is long time.  Things are different...We're different." 

"Is it someone else?"  

"Would you stop that?  No, it's not Eddie or anybody else...It's just... I don't see why we can't just go back to being friends.  I just don't want to open Jack up to anymore...confusion. He's normalcy in his life."

Woody felt that old familiar wall of hers rising up again.  Only this time she had fortified with Jack.

"Friends?  That kiss last night was far from just...friendly, Jordan."

Jordan toyed with one of the discarded glasses on the counter.  

"We were both tired and coming off an adrenalin rush.  Neither of us was thinking correctly..." 

"I'm not going to fight with you about this, but I'm going to give up either.  I only asked you to keep the door open on the idea Jordan."

"Please understand Woody."

"I think I do. I let you down one to many times.  I know I don't deserve it, but I'm going to get you to trust me again."

"Woody..."

"I'm heading back to the city today.  I have a pile of work on my desk and I still need to find a place to live.  I'll leave as soon as Jack wakes up."

~~~~~~~~~~

Jack waved one last time as Woody's car pulled away.

"When's he coming back Mama?"  

When Jack didn't get an answer he looked up at Jordan.  Woody's car was long out of sight but she remained staring out the window. 

"Mama?"

Jack's concerned voice snapped Jordan out of her reverie. 

"Did you say something, baby?"

Jack wrapped his arms around his mama's hips.

"It's alright Mama, Daddy said he was just going back to Boston and we can call him anytime."

Jordan gave Jack a weak smile remembering Jack stuffing the slip of paper that had Woody's phone number on it, deep in his pants pocket.

 "....Yes, he did." 

Woody had scribbled the number down as he was racing out the door. He paused long enough to tell Jack that if he ever got lost again he could call him, instead of Eddie. 

"Why did Daddy have to go?"

Jordan looked out the window, but she wasn't noticing the frost covered trees.   She was seeing red taillights pulling away from Pogue on that fateful night.  She was hearing the deafening click of her door as the dawn was just taking the shadows out of her apartment.  Both times he HAD to go...he didn't have a choice.  Just like now, but this time she could do something about it. 

"Jack, start rounding up your stuff...We're going home."

"Will Daddy be there?"

"I hope so."

Eyeing the dirty dishes and pondering the laundry, Jordan figured they could be back in Boston by mid afternoon.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Woody stood at the window in his hotel room watching the cold rain fall on the dark city.  Everything looked as grey as he felt.  He was so busy trying to reclaim his past that he had pushed Jordan to fast. He couldn't blame her for not trusting him.  He's done nothing but make a fool out himself since came back to town.  

Normalcy was a foreign word to him. Jordan was right, he thought. How could he offer Jack normalcy when he was still living in the mayhem that has been his very existence for so many years.       

He could hear the sirens of a fire truck rushing through the traffic below.  There was something he needed to do.  He grabbed his coat and left. 

~~~~~~~~~

Woody pulled into the water darkened parking lot.  The rain had slowed to a fine mist that reflected in the street lights. 

The last time he was there he watched as his life blowup, not with the big bang that Bernard had promised him, but a grotesque mixture of flames and smoke that spiraled over the empty buildings and tenements that lined the narrow street.  He stepped out of his car and looked around.  Any trace of the explosion had long since disappeared.  

Like it never happened.

But it did and he lived with that fact everyday.   He pulled his collar up on his coat and jammed his hands into his pockets.  His fingers closed around his phone. He laughed out loud with the irony of it.  He had come there to put some old memories to rest and think about the future.  A future that included a son...a family.  His family.  He pulled out the phone.  

Standing wet and cold in a deserted parking lot, HIS deserted parking lot, he decided to end this facet of his life, once and for all.   

He quickly dialed the number with suddenly sweaty finger tips. His father answered it on the second ring.

"Hi, it's me....it's me Woody"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jordan breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Woody's car sitting in the parking lot.  She was running out of places to look.  She pulled over when she saw him standing under the street light talking on his phone.  She waited until he hung up and she dialed.

_"Hey stranger."___

_"__Jordan__! Ah..... Hi. Is everything alright?"_

_"No it's not....Woody, the next time you leave someone your phone number, make sure it's the current one."_

Jordan watched as Woody looked at his handset and then the ground. He replied with a chuckle.

_"I'm sorry __Jordan__; I'm still not use to my __Boston__ numbers." _

_"Well, I can tell you the FBI is not very willing to give out personal numbers."_

_"Then how did you...never mind.  Nigel?" _

_"Yeah, it wasn't as easy as he thought it would be but all in all it took him about three minutes..." _

Jordan watched as he shifted his feet and nodded his ear still to the phone.  She stepped out onto the curb and closed her door silently.  

_"So, what are you thinking about?"_

Woody sighed and leaned against his car. He reflected for a moment and then answered honestly, no longer afraid to hide his feelings.

 _ "....You....Jack...and where I go from here."   _

Jordan stopped walking taken aback by his honesty.  She had assumed he was brooding over the choices he has made in his life, not his future.   She smiled when she remembered a time they had a similar conversation.

_ "......Ahh...so....you're back to thinking about where home is?" _

_"Uh huh...."_ he said looking up into the sky and recalling the flames that once seemed to lick the stars.  _"I've been running around in circles for five years, I'm right back where I started and I still I don't know where home is anymore.  Maybe you could tell me exactly where that is again...."_

Jordan stood silently for a moment taking in his slumped shoulders.  She resumed walking, 

_"I already told you...home is right behind you..." _

Woody's head snapped up and he slowly turned.  He looked over the hood of his car to see Jordan walking toward him the phone fixed to her ear.  

_"I thought I'd find you here."_

_"That's funny; I swore to myself I would never turn down this street again."_ Woody replied not willing to hang up the phone.

_"Okay, to tell you the truth it was on my second page of ideas.  Your office was empty...and Mayer tried to tell me I was fool to bother, and Nigel said your government credit card doesn't list individual charges for hotels, Lily and I canvassed everyplace within ten city blocks of the field office...nobody would talk.  Dad didn't know..... Eddie refused to put out an APB in your car....Emmy's still claiming she's seeing ghosts..."_

_"Interrogating half of __Boston__ to find me?"_

Woody looked over her shoulder toward the street and her dark vehicle.

_"He's at Garret's.  The last time I checked Renee was reading him a bedtime story..."_

_"I hope it's not 'Hamlet'."_

Jordan pulled the phone from her ear and looked at the sedan that was parked between them and thought of the other car that once stood between them. 

"Sometimes...when I close my eyes I can see that corpse.  I can feel the weight of the evidence in my hands.  And now I stand here with my eyes wide open and realize that it's all in the past. I know now that I never really moved on.  We've both been running in circles for the last five years and it's time for both of us to let it go."

"Jordan..."

"No, let me finish... I don't know what tomorrow brings.  I just know I want to try....to try and share it with you."

Woody knew it's not the answer to his proposal that he truly wanted but he also knew she was keeping the door wide open of the idea.  He put his phone back into his coat pocket and walked around the other side of the car to stand face to face with her.   

"I take it...for now" he added with a smile.  "Ah, do you have to go get Jack or do you want to go get a cup of coffee or something?"

Jack was fine Jordan thought. "I'd like that."

"There's a diner right up the street, the coffee use to be lousy, but..."

"I was thinking more along the lines of something quieter," she smiled.

"Why Jordan Cavanaugh, are you inviting me up to your apartment?"  He teased.

"No, I'm asking you to come home," she replied in all seriousness.  

 Woody stood in a daze as Jordan stood on her toes and kissed his frosty cold lips.  He was still motionless when she took off running across the parking lot.

"What are you waiting for farm boy?"

Woody leaned back on his car and laughed out.  He could never remember being so happy.  He was still laughing as he watched her taillights pull away.  The rain had stopped and the first shimmer of city dimmed moonlight broke through the clouds.

Woody tossed his keys in the air.  Tomorrow would dawn bright and clear.  Full of promise of a beautiful new start. 

The End

~~~~~~~~~~

Hokey ending I know but it had to end somewhere...so why not end it at the beginning.

Thanks for everybody's feedback.  It's nice to know somebody is reading this thing. Frankly, it damn near kicked my butt. Jo. 

Thanks Again Beth!  


End file.
